Decomposition
by Doctor Yok
Summary: Kanda's body is starting to deconstruct. Information from the Second Exorcist files may tell him why, but will this knowledge save him or doom him? It seems that there is no hope as his friends slowly confess to him their feelings and memories.
1. The Beginning of the End

Dr. Yok: Okay, I don't own -Man or any of its affiliates. Hoshino-sama has that honor. I only own the five hundred boxes of cookies in my house.

This story was inspired by the movie 'Moon' staring Sam Rockbell. Watch it. _Now. _

* * *

He hadn't thought much of it, at first. It hadn't been anything. It'd just been…a twitch. A slight movement. Nothing more than a tick on the graph. There was nothing to worry about. A muscle had moved in the wrong direction, and that was that. That's how it always starts though, right? It was always something small. Something common. Something overlooked.

A twenty-four year old Kanda stood up after defeating the Level Four he'd been battling for the past hour or so. He'd been forced to use Shouka and Sangenshiki, but it had been worth it. The Akuma had succumbed easily after that, and now it lay in pieces at his feet. His golem fluttered by his ear annoyingly, bleating about a message it was receiving.

Kanda snatched it out of the air, aware of a strange feeling he'd encountered when he'd activated Shouka. He was back to normal now, but the sensation in his chest hadn't left. Still, he'd decided to leave it be. It'd fix itself, as always. He clicked a button on the golem. His finger could still feel the nicks where the stupid Moyashi's golem, Timcanpy, had chewed on the poor communications device.

There was a crackle, and a voice suddenly cut in to the air.

"--ello? Hello? Kanda, is that you? Where are you? We were looking all over the place, but we couldn't track you down," Komui chirped. Kanda glared at the golem as if it would melt the man on the other end of the line.

"I'm busy. I'll be back to Headquarters soon."

"Ah, right, right. Don't be late, Y--" The connection dropped as Kanda clicked the off button. The golem fluttered around his head for a little bit before settling in his pocket. Kanda walked down through the rubble and the grit he'd left behind from his battle.

Everything within a five miles radius was decimated. Trees, rocks, and other significant land features had been obliterated in the ensuing fight. Nothing was left. Akuma fights usually got messy, but this was pretty heavy demolition work. The townspeople wouldn't be particularly pleased, but then again they never were.

Kanda headed towards the church where the Ark was 'parked'. The priest greeted him kindly despite Kanda's lack of conversation.

"You are doing well, I hope?" A grunt was all the answer he got.

"And you need no medical help?"

"No. This is the password," Kanda stated tersely, tapping it out on the old man's hand. The priest was used to this gruff behavior already from the Exorcists that came and went through this church. He nodded to Kanda as he passed into the white light of the Ark.

The Mediterranean houses greeted him with their whitewashed walls and their pristine streets. Kanda passed through them quickly. He jogged slightly, looking for the Ark's Door 12. This one led to the European Headquarters for the Black Order where Lenalee and Noise Marie were at that moment. As he ran, Kanda noticed that he was getting short of breath. He frowned deeper, slowing down until he finally came to a stop. His breathing still felt tight, restricted.

Kanda ignored it. He'd gotten a chest wound, and he probably had a broken rib pressing against his lungs. He told himself he'd get it checked out, but if he wanted to be honest he'd have told himself he was going to his room to lie down and sleep it off. That was just Kanda's way.

He kept running, slowing down when he got out of breath, but never breaking his stride. Finally, he reached Door 12 and pulled it open. A bright light bathed him and he was suddenly in the middle of the Science Department Headquarters. Everyone's head turned…then promptly turned back to their computer screen. Kanda was not one to be messed with after a mission.

He walked down the aisles steadily, trying to regulate his oddly out-of-wind breathing. As he headed up to Komui's office, he also noticed a strange lurch in his stomach. Kanda frowned, amazed at the fact he was getting a stomachache. What was going on? Was he sick? He'd been fine when he had left the Order, that was for sure.

He opened the door to Komui's office, and the smell of coffee and ink washed over him nostalgically. He'd been coming in here less and less often as the number of Akuma began to dwindle. There were still several, but it seemed that they were winning the fight. Komui looked up from his dazed stare at the ceiling. His face brightened at Kanda's entrance.

"Kanda-san! So happy to see you!" Komui fluttered. Kanda rolled his eyes and didn't answer. He slapped his report (which had been done prior to his fighting the Akuma) on Komui's desk and did an about-face. Komui frowned at the paperwork and whined, "Kanda-san, why don't you stay? You never come out of that dusty room of yours!"

Kanda grunted back, holding his stomach. The door shut behind him and he was off to his room, where there was peace, quiet, and an absence of people. As he walked, though, he noticed something different about his gait. It was much slower, a bit more awkward.

Suddenly, a memory replayed through his mind. Unlike most humans, Kanda could still remember the first steps he took. Biologically, he'd been nine years old, but in his mind he had hardly passed his first day by. His steps had been like this. Awkward, almost as if he'd forgotten how to walk. His legs had been weak and unresponsive. As of now, they were nowhere near that stage, but it felt like he'd been jogging miles and miles.

How long had it been since that first twitch? Perhaps an hour? Two hours? Kanda walked into his room and flopped down on his bed. The ceiling seemed to spin over him. The room was thankfully dark because he was starting to get a headache. His stomach didn't feel all that well, but now that he was lying down it had settled. Erratically, his foot would twitch, but he didn't notice. All of the sudden, Kanda was very, very tired. Bone-tired, in fact. So tired that all he wanted to do was fall into a coma and get some well-deserved rest.

Kanda's eyes slowly slipped shut. It'd been a long day. That stupid Akuma had basically ruined his evening. He'd been the only Exorcist able to travel that far, kill it, then come back in less than a day. Everyone else was in the Infirmary, dead, or out doing something other than their job. At least, in Kanda's mind that was what everyone was doing.

His brain finally shut down, allowing him to move into a sense of easy sleep.

* * *

The air was cold. Why was it so cold? And why was he shivering? He never got cold. At least, he'd never gotten like this. This was arctic. Even on that mission into the blizzards of Germany…

Kanda's skin seemed to be crawling as he shivered underneath the covers of his bed. The sheets were too thin, and the air was too frozen. He couldn't hardly feel his toes or his fingers any more. He got up and looked out the window, trying to find the source of the draft that had caused this sudden drop in temperature. His feet hit the floor, and he almost cursed as the cold raced through his feet once more.

Why was it so cold? The window was closed. The door was as well. There were no rushes of air. There were no unexplainable spells of immense cold in pockets of the room. It was just….cold.

Kanda sighed through his nose in an annoyed fashion. His head was blurry, and he could hardly think clearly. Stumbling around, he found a spare blanket he kept in the closet, but which he never used. Why? Because he never got this cold, dammit…

He grumbled as he tried to climb back in bed, but for some reason, the bed seemed a lot farther than it actually was. His brow knitted together as he tried to touch the bed, but found that his hand kept touching air instead of cotton sheets. At least, he managed to reach it. Kanda sat down on his bed with a tired _whump, _and wrapped himself in the spare blanket.

And he was still cold.

What was wrong with him? He couldn't think straight. It was like every time he tried to string words together into coherent thoughts, something cut them short or dismantled them as soon as he had them arranged in the proper order. His hands were shaking because of how cold it was. Was that really why his hands were shaking though?

He'd warmed up a little bit. He could feel his fingers and toes. All of his extremities were no longer numb, but his hands couldn't seem to stop shaking. Idly, he stared at a wall. He did this for several minutes. And then he stared longer. Minutes synthesized together into an hour. Great, now he couldn't sleep either.

Letting out an angry groan, he cast off the blankets. Kanda angrily opened the door to his room and stumbled off to the cafeteria to get something to eat. His stomach roiled furiously, and he gripped his abdomen in brief pain. He must have a stomach bug. That'd explain everything.

As he barged into the kitchen, he leaned against the counter, breathing hard. Again, his breathing felt constricted and difficult. It'd only been a short run. He'd hardly had to run very far to get to the kitchen from his room. Why was he so winded?

Kanda flung open a cabinet, flipping on the light switch at the same time. His hands searched the dark for a moment before he could find it. The cabinet was another story. His hand missed it entirely.

Finally pulling out some ingredients for hot chocolate, he started to heat up water. However, as he put the water on the stove, he burned his hand. He hissed in pain, nearly dropping the small pot. The water sloshed and hissed as it hit the hot stove. Kanda put the burnt hand to his mouth. He ran to the sink and ran it under the water. It was now an angry red color, and it was already beginning to blister. Blood rose the surface of the burn, coloring it darker than before.

Kanda stared at it in a sense of almost awe. He'd never burned himself. This new sensation of being burned was explosive, painful, but also like a bright new understanding. For a moment, Kanda could imagine that this must be what an infant might feel like after sticking a finger in a candle.

However, he was pulled back to the present situation. He needed to dress the burn quickly. He found some napkins and decided that would have to do until morning. The water hissed quietly in the pot. Wearily, he glared at it, almost wishing it would just leave him alone. He rubbed his arms unconsciously, noting for a moment that it was still cold.

The burn ached now as he put chocolate and the other necessities for the drink inside of the pot. The door to the kitchen opened, and Kanda's head whipped around to see the new arrival. Allen stood in slight surprise.

"Oh. I didn't know anyone was in here." Kanda didn't bother to grace the comment with one of his own. He turned back to his chocolate and let it simmer. The silence continued awkwardly as Allen moved around the kitchen looking for leftovers or snacks.

Kanda put his empty pot into the sink as he stumbled back to a table in the cafeteria. Allen watched him curiously. His actions were erratic, almost sloppy. Kanda always moved with a profound sense of elegance, a sort of marker for one who had spent their entire life training to fight. This was strange.

Kanda stared into his cup of hot chocolate morosely. Why did he feel like this? What was going on? He'd never gotten this sick before. And it had all started with a muscle twitch. Was he overdoing it? Maybe this was all over the top, and he was blowing this out of proportion. It was a simple stomach bug, that was it. A stomach bug…

Allen walked into the cafeteria with a huge plate of food, his usual fare. He slid the plate down on the opposite end of the table Kanda was currently presiding at. His eyes curiously cast over to the silent Exorcist as he seemed to ponder something.

Kanda felt Allen's eyes on him and turned to him. He scowled deeper at the white-haired boy and growled, "What?" Allen frowned back and mumbled, "Nothing." Kanda turned back to his chocolate.

Suddenly, his stomach was hit by another bout of pain. His breathing turned shaky. His lungs burned as he tried to breath. He'd never really caught his breath after getting into the kitchen. It only seemed like the oxygen in the room kept depleting…

He asked himself again: What was happening?

"Kanda, are you okay?"

Kanda looked up without moving his head. Allen was standing next to him, his face still frowning, but in a more concerned way rather than angry. Kanda's lip twitched at him and he said, "Go away. I'm fine." Why was he denying that he _wasn't_ fine? Was it because he was afraid of losing the illusion that he was indestructible? Maybe he was afraid to admit that he wasn't.

What was happening to him?

"Are you sure? You look pretty pale. I didn't see you at dinner," Allen said self-consciously. Kanda rolled his eyes and said, "Unlike you, I don't have to eat an elephant a day." Allen huffed angrily, and Kanda hoped that would be enough to get the younger Exorcist to leave.

But Allen was stubborn.

"Bakanda, you haven't even drunk your hot chocolate. You don't look so good," Allen fretted. Kanda suddenly leapt up and stormed off. Allen backed up in surprise. Kanda's footsteps resounded down the hall as he sped towards his room.

Allen was left standing in an empty cafeteria. He looked confused as his rival left without a word, his breathing huffing loudly as he walked away.

Kanda got to his room, the pain in his stomach almost unbearable. That idiot Allen wouldn't stop asking him questions! It was just a stomach bug. Nothing more, nothing less. There wasn't anything to worry about. He slammed the door shut and leaned against it. He slid down the door wearily, his breath whooshing in and out like wind from giant bellows. It was harder for him to breath. Why couldn't he just get some damn oxygen?!

Kanda literally crawled to his bed, climbing into it. He curled up into a ball, holding his burnt hand closed against his stomach. The night finally began to pass, and Kanda slept fitfully, tossing and turning. In his dreams, he could hear voices whispering in his ear a question. It was always the same:

"What's wrong?"

* * *

Two weeks later, Kanda walked into the cafeteria once more. His headaches were worse. His stomach continually tried to shred itself into pieces. He couldn't find the will to eat. This was more than a digestive illness, but Kanda couldn't bring himself to get to the infirmary. Occasionally, one of his friends would look at him with an expression of concern, but he ran them off as soon as they started to look at him too closely. Even Lenalee was staying away from him due to his foul mood.

His gut wrenched at itself as he coughed into his elbow. This had been happening more often as well. He mused at himself, his dark eyes squeezed tight as he painfully continued to cough. His breathing was labored, and the burn on his hand wouldn't heal. It was still blistered and a nasty shade of brown-red.

His clumsy feet stumbled as he tripped over the doorstop. Blindingly quick, he caught himself before anyone noticed. His heart hammered in his chest as his usual scowl was intercepted by a blackness. The cafeteria's lights were all out. He frowned. Why would the lights be off? Everyone was supposed to be at breakfast. Maybe some accident had occurred, and now the cafeteria was off limits.

Heh, go figure. This just added to his already crappy morning. He was about leave when the lights flipped on, and large bunches of people jumped out of nowhere shouting, "SURPRISE!" Kanda's hand immediately flew to Mugen, but when he realized that there was no threat, he calmed down. His heart continued to run a mile a minute, no matter how controlled Kanda tried to breath.

Smiling faces and pleasant expressions herded him to a table with a giant bowl of soba that had 'Kanda' written on it in green noodles. He smirked at it, amazed. He'd forgotten all about his birthday. Usually it was something he passed up. Well, he wasn't getting out of it now.

The party went semi-smoothly. Kanda was vaguely depressed that there were now twenty-five candles in the soba. He was getting old.

Kanda almost forgot about his pain. He almost forgot about his spinning headaches and his gut-scrunching pains. For a while, he didn't seem to notice that his hands were shaking or that his burn was aching again. But, all of that came back. All of it hit him tenfold, and all it took was one little thing.

The Exorcist hadn't eaten properly for the past two weeks. Everything he tried to stomach either came back up or ended up laying uneaten. He'd lost his appetite and his stomach. He'd hidden it by creating the illusion that he was eating by getting food and slowly, piece by piece, hiding it until it seemed like half the plate was gone. In reality, he'd eat small bites of food every once in a while, only enough to keep him from passing out of sheer exhaustion.

But now, he was surrounded by people and all of them were watching him. He couldn't not eat. If he did…if he did…What would happen if he did? He couldn't just push everything away. How was he supposed to get out of this one? He picked up the chopsticks shakily. Lenalee was smiling, holding a camera. Noise was standing off in the distance with a strange look on his face, and Allen was beaming proudly as he told him how he'd made the soba with Jeryy's help. Krory was away on a mission, and Lavi was as well. Kanda's dark grey eyes darted around the room self-consciously as he took a tentative bite out of the soba. He swallowed it, wincing for a moment as it passed down his throat.

For a few second, there seemed to be no problem. Kanda grunted without a smile, pleased.

And suddenly, he was grasping his stomach, his hand flying up to his mouth. His taste buds exploded with the distinct flavor of blood and bile. His abdomen spasmed as he suddenly flew off the bench. He ran for the bathroom, leaving behind the room full of astonished people.

He was dying. That was the only description he could give the feeling. He threw up again and again into the bathroom's toilet, leaving a handprint stains of blood on the sides of the stall. His hands were stained brown-red, and his hair was sticky. He collapsed and leaned his head next to the toilet, his forehead leaning against the rim of the bowl.

His throat was on fire, and he was helpless. He could do nothing except lay there. His friends came in. He hid his face with his hair and his arms. He couldn't let them see him like this. Not like this, so defenseless and vulnerable. He had to get back up.

Legs of rubber attempted to hold up his body, but they slipped from underneath him. Air was becoming a luxury by now, and smell had all but left him. Lenalee and Allen were supporting him as the shouted for help. He looked up, his vision blurring.

He tried to move. He couldn't let them see him like this…

Lenalee was shushing him now. He hadn't realized that he'd been speaking. Allen was still yelling for help. There was a new voice now, too. One that was easily recognizable and had annoyed Kanda since the day it had arrived. Lavi burst into the bathroom, his face a mess and his hair crazy as a hedge-hog's. Hysterically, Kanda wanted to laugh. Lavi was always looking like this, but his face was wrong. It wasn't supposed to look like that. It was supposed to be happier. Goofier. Stupider.

"Ugh…Idiot usagi…you're supposed to be laughing," Kanda grumbled groggily. Black was narrowing his vision inwards. He couldn't hold on any longer. Was this what dying felt like? He remember something like this when he'd fought Skin Boric. The Ark had disappeared. Allen brought it back, though, and he was alive again…

A giant starburst of pain blossomed in his throat. He coughed viciously, and a large bout of blood suddenly spilled like a crimson rain out of his mouth. Lenalee gaped at the steadily growing pool. In the back of his mind, Kanda wondered how someone could contain so much blood in them.

His vision spun one last time-- and then he was gone.

* * *

There was something on his face.

That was the first thought Kanda encountered when he woke up. Something was over his mouth and nose. He breathed in, noting the hissing sound he was making. He was confused. How did he get here? Why was he in a hospitable bed? What was…

His train of thought wrecked as he realized that he was surrounded by machines. There were monitors all around him. In chairs next to his bed, Lavi, Lenalee, and Allen were asleep. A nurse was watching his vital signs. There were tubes stuck in his arm, and he was wearing one of those idiotic looking hospital gowns.

As he became more and more awake, he realized that he wasn't in pain. For the first time in a while, he was no longer aching or panging. It was like the pain had never existed. Yet, at the same time, it was like someone had numbed his brain as well. His thinking was blurred, like ink on a paper that was wet.

His sluggish brain tracked movement in the hallway outside of his hospital room. Kanda watched curiously as a woman came in. She wasn't very tall, hardly the Moyashi's hieght, and her hair was cheek length and darker than night. Her slanted eyes belied her Asian heritage, though her bone structure was European. Her eyes were bright brown, and she was chewing on a pencil as she looked over a clipboard in front of her.

The woman seemed to feel Kanda's eyes on her because she turned to him. Her gaze bored deep into his own, and he realized that this was a doctor whose willpower could probably match his own. She narrowed her eyes at him and strode towards the edge of the bed.

"I see you're awake," she stated tersely in a dry voice. She didn't bother waking up anyone else in the room.

Who was this woman? Possibly his doctor. Possibly a nurse. Maybe some acquaintance he'd pissed off and now she wanted revenge, though that was highly unlikely. His breathing continued to be regular and unstrained. It was so strange, being able to breath without restriction.

The woman flipped through her clipboard with a puckered set of lips. Her gaze flicked back to Kanda and said, "You're a mess, you know that? You had a compound fracture of the ribs, as well as a tear in your stomach lining, and that burn of yours wasn't healing properly. The rib fracture was digging into your lungs, but they were already bleeding from the inside anyways. The burn was probably some form of atrophy, though I wouldn't understand how that happened. You were perfectly healthy before. Something's been eating you, that's for certain." Kanda frowned. The others were still there. Why was she ignoring them completely?

"Shouldn't…you….wake them…up before…telling me what's…wrong?" he slowly pieced together, forcing his thoughts to form something that made sense. One intubated hand shakily lifted itself to point at the three Exorcists in the chairs asleep. The woman lifted one sculpted eyebrow at him and asked saucily, "Are they the patient? No." She kept flipping through the clipboard. Kanda frowned.

The flipping was getting old.

"Quit…that," he grunted, annoyed that his voice came out muffled by the gas mask over his face. She looked at him innocently.

"What? This?" She purposefully flipped through the clipboard. Suddenly, she stayed her hand, and the flipping ceased. Her eyes were unreadable as she stated, "Well, I'm sorry if I disturbed you."

She started to leave. Kanda realized that she had yet to tell her what was wrong with him. He commanded, "Wait." The woman stopped. She turned her head to look out at him with one eye.

"…What?" she asked brusquely. Kanda frowned and was tempted to flip her the bird. Then again, she was the one who could tell him what was going on.

"What's wrong with me?" He was starting to regain his ability to speak. It was raspy, but it was getting better. His mind was starting to unfog itself, but the pain was also coming back. Despite that, he sat up and looked at her. She didn't look at all worried that he was trying to move after such an ordeal.

"I'm not supposed to tell you," she answered truthfully. Kanda's face darkened.

"Why?"

"Because…" Her face seemed indecisive, hardened. Then, it changed to something different. Puzzled.

"--because we don't know. We haven't got the slightest idea what's wrong with you." Kanda's breathing didn't change. His mind swirled in a maelstrom. This was all weird. They had no idea?

"What _do_ you know?" he asked, vaguely thinking that this sounded like some lame hospital drama. Life was so full of clichés.

But the answer after that wasn't cliché. It was downright cruel.

Her smile was sardonic and maybe a bit sad.

"You're dying."


	2. Complications

Eve stood outside of the Exorcist's hospital room with one hip cocked. She was staring inwards towards the sleeping Kanda, pondering over him. The man was falling apart slowly from the inside out. His stomach lining was deteriorating, causing internal bleeding. Small, broken blood vessels were starting to appear on soft areas of the skin. His motor skills were slowly deteriorating. There didn't seem to be any sort of cause for any of these strange decompositions. She'd just been in to talk with him and had offered him her very truthful answer to what she did know about what was going on.

"You're dying." How many times had she herself heard that same answer?

Allen Walker, age 21, walked up to her and stood watching Kanda. There was silent for a few moments before Allen asked, "Will he be fine?"

"No." Allen's head whipped around to her with a brutal glare. Her lazy eyed gaze met his, freezing the glare in its tracks. She was being honest. She didn't believe that Kanda was going to be okay. That was the truth. Allen averted his chagrined stare.

"He's stable at the least," she said as she looked at Allen intently. "We've got him on some codeines to keep him from hurting too badly. I haven't got a clue about what's wrong with him. All I know is that he's breaking down. And he's breaking down slowly. It took him nearly three weeks to get to this stage." Allen looked at her with a hurt look.

"He hid this for three weeks?" Eve nodded.

"Three whole weeks. It must've been hell trying to keep up that act. His stomach was ripping itself apart, and his lungs weren't functioning at even fifty percent capacity. That burn looked like hell, too. Must've happened about two weeks ago. He probably thought it'd heal on its own. I would've thought so too, until it stopped healing," Even explained. She wiggled her pencil between her index and thumb. Her expression was one of puzzlement. How had all of this happened? By Kanda's account, this all hit him the day he fought a Level Four somewhere in India. A twitch, he said, in his chest.

What could've caused such a sudden decline? It was like his body had compressed nearly fifty years into three weeks. This was the equivalent of an old man falling apart. Problem was, Kanda wasn't an old man. He had been a healthy twenty-something Exorcist who'd been blindsided by an illness no one knew about. Though all other functions were normal, such as brain activity and production of cells, it was almost assured that they would fail one by one as the weeks went on.

"I can't believe I didn't see it. I can't _believe _it," Allen whispered to himself, crossing one arm across his stomach and leaning the other against it, his hand against his mouth. His eyes were tight and painful as he looked at Kanda.

"He'd been stumbling. He was getting weaker and weaker. I ignored it because he just kept getting nastier as the days went on. Some days he wouldn't even get out of bed. I figured he'd heal up on his own because of that tattoo he's got, but…I don't know. He hadn't looked good. He hadn't looked good at all," Allen sighed sadly. His eyes looked like they were about to well up with tears. He pushed the heel of his hand into one eye and muttered, "I was such an idiot."

Eve watched him without offering consolation. There wasn't much to say. Her breathing suddenly turned deep and pensive. Her eyes were far away as she gazed into the empty hospital room with its beeping machines and forlorn looking flowers in the vase next to the bed. Kanda's hair was spilled out around his head like a halo of blue-black, and he looked mildly peaceful as he slept. His face was partially covered with an oxygen mask he'd tried to remove several times. His arms were purple and green from ripping IV's out of his arm because they annoyed him when they moved.

"The symptoms would've been difficult to catch. However, I would've thought the retching noises from the bathroom every night would've said something. I can imagine he was throwing up anything and everything he ate. His stomach would've rejected everything to prevent an infection from growing inside of him," Eve said dispassionately. To her, Kanda was just another patient. She was the leading researcher on this type of decomposition, which was mainly found in parasitic type Innocence users such as Allen's. Kanda's was more acute than theirs, however, and she had the feeling that time was running out on them. Her treatments might not work the same way. He was a special case.

Parasitic Innocence type users had been falling apart in a similar way to Kanda. Their bodies couldn't take the strain the Innocence put on them, and so their life spans were cut in half. Allen himself probably had another twenty years before he dropped dead from cell exhaustion or decompositions like Kanda's. Eve had been studying it for a while, starting her research hardly a year ago. She'd slowed down the process, giving the Exorcist more time as she tried to find a way to cure the decompositions completely.

Kanda wasn't a parasitic type Exorcist, though. He was an equipment type. She'd read over his file and noted the fact that his Innocence had been integrated artificially, and this might've led to these complications in health. He was also a Second Exorcist, another tidbit that grated on Eve's mind.

"And you know, it's so weird. Kanda isn't the type to just roll over and die," Allen said with a sad chuckle, his eyes still glistening. "When you think of the ways that he could die, you'd imagine him saving an entire village, or fighting a Level Five or something like that. Not-not…not like this. I would've never imagined this." He gestured to Kanda. Eve nodded to him without looking.

"When will he be an outpatient?" Allen asked. The Exorcist looked down on Eve. Allen had grown up in the past couple of years after the Earl's death. He was taller. His hair was a little longer. The Fourteenth came and went as he pleased, though, and so there was always a watcher with Allen. Presently, Link was watching him from his spot next to a bench.

The dimly lit hallway cast shadows on Eve's face. "Two weeks. Maybe three. It depends on Kanda."

"Then make it two days."

Eve turned her head curiously to Allen. She frowned in confusion.

"Two days? Is this guy really that nuts?" Allen smiled with a hint of melancholy mixed in. He nodded.

"You don't know Kanda. He'll be out of here before you know it. You'll have to get ten nurses to stand guard at that door if you don't want him coming out. Even like this, he could probably bust down a door with a deadbolt on it." Eve's face lost all of its expression. She didn't seem pleased with this answer.

"So be it. We'll just have to add a few dozen more locks." She turned and left Allen. The white-haired Exorcist watched the doctor leave disconcertingly. Her footsteps were clipped and controlled, as well as all of her body movements. All of them were efficient, wasting no energy or effort. Something was off about that doctor. Allen couldn't quite place his finger on it.

"Walker-san, I think we should go now. Visiting hours aren't until eight o' clock tomorrow," Link suggested. Allen's eyes never left from the retreating doctor.

"Alright, Link. We'll go."

* * *

In the Asian Branch Headquarters in China, Zhu prepares some food in the cafeteria. The place is bustling with life and spirit as Exorcists from around Asia come to eat and rest. He smiles at yet another pleased Exorcist who is carrying a plate full of food.

The old man wipes his hands on his apron with a content sigh. The day had been good. The sun was shining, and the fog had dissipated that day. Pho was actually being polite for once, and Bak was doing well. Zhu's I Ching kit had told him today was a day of marked grief, however, but he decided he shouldn't trust the set of three coins and an old book. What could possibly down this day? The sun gleamed down brightly from the window, and it seemed nothing could taint the goodness of today's productiveness.

Suddenly, a pair of feet came patter, patter, pattering into the cafeteria. Zhu turned to look at the new arrival. Either someone was very hungry, or urgent news was to be had. What could it be, though, that was so urgent? Bak's worried and anxious face appeared at the door of the kitchen. Zhu looked mildly surprised. Bak looked sick to his stomach, worried and drawn. Just this morning, he'd been directing the Science Department fluidly with an elegance that only happened every once in a while. Now, he seemed flustered and unfocused.

"What is wrong, Bak-sama? You look like you saw a--" His sentence was cut off as Bak wheezed, "Kanda…he's…it's…" Zhu's eyes widened slightly. He looked to the calendar hanging next to the stove. Yesterday had been the boy's twenty-fifth birthday. It struck Zhu how much time had passed.

"Yes. I'm afraid we missed Kanda's birthday, but that is nothing to fret over. It must be long over by now, as well as we are nearly ten hours ahead of those in the European Headquarters," Zhu stated slowly in his meandering tones. Bak shook his head, catching his breath.

"No, you don't understand. Kanda…something's happened to him." The old man was confused, but nodded. It was quite plausible. Kanda was known to get hurt frequently from Akuma fights, but he always healed up from them. Nonetheless, Bak shook his head at the old man and led him to his office.

Once inside, he showed Zhu a video screen. It showed a young woman with short, dark hair and deep brown eyes. Zhu knew her. She'd once stayed in the Asian Branch Headquarters studying something before leaving a week later after getting a message from the European Headquarters. What was her name? Ellen? Erin? Evelyn?

"Hello, Zhu. I am Eve Rothshire. I am Kanda's current doctor," the woman on the screen stated. Zhu frowned. Kanda had never really needed a doctor before. Every once in a while a physician would check him over, but that was the most a 'doctor' had ever been needed.

"Yes. My associate tells me that something has happened, I believe. What is it?" Zhu asked calmly, though something was tugging on his heart. Instinct told him something wrong was happening. Very wrong. It was tied to this girl, but he did not know what it was.

"I am afraid that Yuu Kanda, as you know him, is dying."

Zhu's bushy eyebrows flew up his forehead. "…Dying, you say. In what manner?" His voice was shaky. No…this was too soon…this was much, much too soon…

Eve's face held no emotion as she said, "He is falling apart, slowly. His body is deteriorating at a rate which will kill him if he is not treated. I can't do that quite yet. I need all of the Second Exorcist files first. I have to study everything over before starting treatment due to the manner of his...creation. I do not wish to accidentally kill him because of some anomaly in his structure."

The world began to spin around and around. Zhu opened his mouth several times, but no words came out. He covered his face with his hand and sat down. He took a shuddering breath. Bak hurried to his side.

"What is it, Zhu?" Bak asked. Zhu shook his head.

"Send her the files, Bak. Just send her the files," he whispered. Bak looked confused. There were so many files…how were they supposed to send all of them?

"All of them, Zhu?"

"Yes. Send them all to her."

During this exchange, Eve did not speak. In fact, she hardly looked fazed at Zhu's obviously upset change of emotion. However, her image blurred for a moment, and then it disappeared as she logged off. Bak looked to Zhu curiously. What could cause him to react like this? He had expected grief and worry, but not this level of sudden regret. Because that was all Bak could see on his face: regret.

"I should've told him. But how could I?" Zhu whispered to himself, getting up from the chair. Bak stood by to help the old cook, but he seemed to walk just fine.

"Get me the files and I'll take them to her. Maybe they will help him--" His words were cut off as the two of them were thrown to the floor. The earth seemed to roll and groan beneath them. The books on the shelves trembled, and everything was toppling over.

"PHO!" Bak yelled. Suddenly, the guardian appeared. She looked rather worn and overworked, but otherwise she easily combated the falling books and pieces of ceiling. At last, the trembling ceased. After ten minutes of tense silence, Bak and Zhu got up tentatively. They were covered in dust and rubble.

"What…what happened?" Zhu asked hesitantly. Pho helped him stand up and brushed him off.

"An earthquake. Beijing got the first bout of it before we did. I was going to warn you guys, but it had already hit us. I should probably help the others--"

A buzz over a golem made Pho halt her report. Bak answered it, and the voice that it emitted was full of pain. "You've got to help us. The old laboratory broke down, and we're trapped in here. The place is starting to fill up with water from a busted main, too. Hurry, please!" Several more pleas echoed. Pho sighed.

"I'd better go, then. I'll meet you later," she said, disappearing. Zhu looked up to Bak and stated, "The old lab…isn't that where the files are?" Bak grimaced.

"Yeah. Go figure."

* * *

Komui heard his phone ring and he blandly wondered if he should answer it or not. Deciding it was probably Reever about to chew his ear off about something, he decided to let it ring. He sat at his desk another twenty minutes before the phone rang again. He sighed. These people were so stubborn. What was wrong with them? He just wanted a nap.

He picked up the phone and said, "Hello?"

"Why exactly didn't you tell me that the Asian Headquarters had an earthquake? Do you know that half of the Second Exorcist files were damaged because they got flooded?" an irate, yet distinctly feminine voice asked in a long-suffering manner as if Komui had merely misplaced her nail file. Eve didn't sound happy. Komui, however, wasn't quite as up-to-date as she was.

"Wait, say again? What happened?" Komui asked. There was a deep sigh.

"Asia was hit with a massive 8.5 quake two hours ago. I just got a phone call about it." Komui's face fell.

"Was anyone hurt?"

"Yeah. About three hundred people in the Asia Headquarters were injured. About twenty-five are dead. No one we know, don't worry." Komui couldn't help but be amazed at Eve's sense of detachment. But, then again, working with sick people who could die on you at any moment probably ended up making you a little detached.

"So the files you wanted-- they're destroyed?"

"Nearly. Zhu brought as many as he could over. There's a lot of stuff to read over. I've got to go through it all. I'm thinking that something about the Synthetic Disciples Project is what's causing this sudden decomposition of cells." Komui suddenly remember Kanda. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten to inquire the man's current status.

"How's he doing?" Komui asked with a concern lilt.

"He could be better. I've got him on some of the usual meds, but I'm not starting treatment until I've read everything over. I don't want to accidentally kill him because his body's especially sensitive."

Komui scoffed. Kanda's body, sensitive? "I don't think you'll have to worry about that, Eve."

"That's what you think." She hung up on him, and he was left sitting with the phone to his ear.

The room was silent. It was suffocating, almost unbearable. Kanda was dying as he was sitting there, and he could do nothing to save the young samurai. Komui had always tried to protect the Exorcist any way he could, by making better uniforms and greeting them when they came home with a party to relieve them of their worries.

What did one do now? Kanda was not dying because of an Akuma attack. It wasn't an Akuma that was trying to destroy him, it was a disease. It was something infinitesimally smaller than they were by thousands upon thousands of times, and yet it was beating him quicker than any Akuma could hope, if the monsters did hope at all. Komui couldn't fight this with better weapons or uniforms. He couldn't dispatch anyone except Eve, the only researcher in her field because everyone else lacked the balls to even try to stop death.

Komui finally put the phone back its cradle. He drummed his fingers on the desk. All they could do was wait. And pray. And hope. And cry. All they could offer was support and love, both of which Kanda would reject. All they could think of was how close Kanda might be to Death's door, how many more steps before he would fall off the edge of that proverbial cliff. All they could rely on was Eve, a cold-hearted doctor more interested in her case than her patient.

As he contemplated Kanda's probable, slow death, he wondered about his own as well. Lately, he'd been getting a little slower, a little weaker. He woke up more slowly now, and he worked longer hours. He was more ponderous, and a few pounds had found their way down to his stomach and hip regions. He hadn't told Lenalee because she would've worried, but the Infirmary's doctors had told him that he had sleep apnea. It was amazing, what with the amount of coffee he drank. It explained the occasional bouts of sleep he got when he was sitting still.

"Geez, this is all depressing," Komui sighed, leaning on one hand. It wasn't long before he'd slipped into a nap on his desk.

* * *

Kanda opened his eyes again, wondering about when he'd fallen asleep. He couldn't really remember, but then again he could never remember anything with these stupid drugs in him. Was this what a druggie felt like all the time? God, they were idiots. You couldn't do anything in this state.

Sluggishly, he got out of bed, careful to take his IVs and such with him. Last time, the doctors had gone absolutely crazy when he'd ripped them out. It had taken five doctors plus Eve's constant needling to get him to succumb to their wishes. Eve had made sure to stab them in rather than slip them under the skin. He'd winced, but showed no outwards signs of having been bothered.

Kanda walked down the hall, his bare feet slapping against the tile floor of the Infirmary. He could see other Exorcists on beds, all in different stages of death or recovery, both of which Kanda considered the same. As he passed by a mirror, he stopped. The IV stand looked strange next to him, following him like a shadow.

"Who the…" For a moment, Kanda hadn't been able to recognize himself. His face was gaunt, and his eyes were sunken in. Bags were under his eyes despite the amount of sleep he received each night, and his hair was a mess. He looked like one of the hobos that slept underneath a bridge all day.

A pang of pain raced up his leg, and he looked down. There was nothing wrong outwardly, but he knew that on the inside, it was starting to decompose like the rest of him. Already, part of his arm had deadened. He could no longer move it, and it was numb. There were blood spots underneath where blood vessels had broken. His skin was pale and clammy, and he never seemed to be warm. It was all part of the disease.

"I see you're awake." Kanda turned to Eve. She was standing outside of a door with a file in hand. Her eyes looked sad as she started back down the hall. She dumped the file in the trash as she walked past. Kanda frowned. What had she done that for? He limped after her, curious.

He'd never followed his doctor before. She had been an untouchable, one that could not be intercepted or perceived other than by his eyes and what others told him. She was cold. She was ruthless. Her heart was no where near an actual heart-- it was probably mechanical, a wind up toy that she wound every night before bed. Timothy had ventured so far as to call her a bitch, to which she thanked him before slapping him across the face. He had to admit that the idiot deserved it, but he'd be damned if she wasn't somewhat evil.

Still, this was strange. She'd just dumped a patient's file into the trash. She was headed towards her office, as usual, but her gait was more lurching and unsteady. He'd noticed that she walked the same way he did now, with an efficient movement, wasting nothing. But now, she was upset. What could cause her to start to unravel?

He couldn't feel the wetness between his toes. He didn't feel the slippery tears he was trodding on as he followed the doctor to her office. He was glad that his IV stand was so well oiled because it didn't squeak as he followed her. She was preoccupied, that was for sure.

Kanda leaned against a wall, wincing. She was faster than usual today. She really needed to get to her office, or something. His breathing became slightly raggedy. He'd not been exercising. He was so out of shape, old man Zhu could probably beat him in a sword fight with a foam noodle. Kanda's breath finally started to produce some results, and he continued tailing the woman. She was farther down the hall now, and Kanda had to shuffle faster to keep up.

Eve entered her office roughly, launching herself at her desk from the doorjamb. She leaned against it before tearing off her ever present lab coat. She threw it at the coat rack before sitting down. Kanda had passed by the door when she suddenly threw something viciously at a wall. He was surprised by the lack of control she'd suddenly exhibited.

Kanda entered her office. She'd told him nothing at all about what was happening, and quite rankly he had a bone to pick with her. He hadn't only been curious about where her office was or what she was doing all of a sudden. She gave him a dark glare, more angry than he'd ever seen her.

He looked down at the stapler she'd launched at the wall. A good sized dent was left in the wall. He looked at Eve and asked, "What was that about?" He pointed at the stapler. She continued to glare at him before asking, "And why do you care, Fem-face? If you've got something to say to me, just say it. Or maybe you shouldn't, because you're the patient and I'm the doctor. I don't care, and therefore you should save your breath and go back to your room." Kanda bristled at the mention of 'Fem-face,' but he refrained from trying to stab her with his own IV needle.

"Are you ever going to tell me anything?" Kanda asked. They'd given him nothing but codeines and soporifics. No medication, no explanations, nothing other than his symptoms. "Am I going to drop dead, or what? If I am, you'd better tell me." Eve rolled her eyes at him and groaned.

"Oh, so what? You can get your affairs in order? What affairs?! You've got nothing to worry about. You've only got four, maybe five, friends. Whatever you've got to say to them, you can say tomorrow. But you aren't going to drop dead. I can't treat you until I know everything about your composition because your body's probably made up differently from regular humans," Eve explained harshly. Her words were rabid dogs looking for flesh to tear. Every word was a knife waiting for a chance to caress skin until it broke.

She was right. What affairs did he have to put in order? What had he ever left unsaid with his friends? Too much to be told in a few days, that much was true. Still, she'd told him a little bit. He wasn't going to die tomorrow. He wouldn't die the day after that either. And now the only mystery to solve was the source of her sudden foul mood.

Kanda continued to stand inside of her office, despite the fact his leg ached and his chest was beginning to burn again. Eve had gone back to scribbling on pad of paper as well as signing her name on several papers. Looking up briefly, she turned back to her paper and signed everything with a rough hand. Finally, she slapped her desk angrily and asked, "What the hell do you want?! I just told you everything there was to know! Get the hell out of here. I don't need you breathing down my neck." She waved a hand at him in a dismissive manner.

Kanda refused to budge. He never said anything, and he never moved except to sit in one of the chairs across from her desk. He was going to sit here until he figured out what had changed his dispassionate doctor into a psycho maniac who signed papers so hard, she broke her pencils. Seriously, would you want your doctor to treat you if they were in an emotionally unstable state?

Finally, it seemed that Eve had reached her break point. Her hand suddenly stopped, having reached her third and final pencil. The tip was groaning and nearly broken. She dropped it and banged her head into the desk. She couldn't take it any more.

"Go. Away. I'm tired. Your tired, I know it, but you're such a macho idiot you won't admit it. Just…leave me alone." Her voice cracked. Kanda still refused to move, staring down at the blooming blossoms of red that lay beneath his skin. They itched, but he refrained from scratching at them. It just made the bleeding worse. This was no longer just a sit down-- it was a battle of wills. Who'd crack first? Would Kanda's body go into a natural sleep from exhaustion, or would this doctor just tell him what ever it was that was bothering her before he had a chance to succumb to sleep?

"What is wrong with you?" she asked him, laying her head on her arms. Her eyes were sad, defeated.

"What do you want with me? Your as bad as a ghost from that old Dickens story." Eve was too tired to fight any more. Her voice was nothing more than a whisper as she asked, "What do you want? If I give it to you, will you leave me alone? Do you want to be an outpatient early? Do you want me to kill you? Is it the drugs, the-the morphine? What is it?"

Kanda sighed and asked, "Why did you throw that patient's file into the trash?"

There was silence.

"That's it?"

He nodded.

"That's all you wanted know. The hell! You're a nutcase! Oh my--…I should get the nurses to take you to bed. You shouldn't be up at all. I can't believe you…URGH!" She got up, but Kanda stopped her, his grip tight on her forearm. She looked into his depthless eyes and knew that she wasn't going to win this battle.

"That was all I wanted to know," was all Kanda said. Eve frowned. Why had he exerted all of this energy, all of this will, on something so trivial? Was it because he had nothing to focus on? Was it because this was all he had left to do? Maybe thinking about your own death made you slightly crazy. Maybe that was all it was.

"It…the patient…he died, okay. He died. That was it. I didn't need the file anymore," she answered tonelessly. Depleted, she sat back down in her chair. Kanda had let go of his grip. He looked puzzled.

What was so bad about that? Did she…did she care that her patient had died? Did she hurt to know that another life had been cruelly snuffed out? Was this what all of this bravado and throwing things had been about? Maybe she felt remorse. Maybe she felt pain. Maybe the Ice Queen could be melted down to nothing more than a puddle.

"I--…" There was nothing to say.

"Leave. Get out of here. I told you. Happy?" she asked with an angry, though tired, glare. Kanda glared back with just as much heat. There seemed to be no argument in the air. It was just heated emptiness. Kanda turned to leave, but suddenly he toppled over.

Eve leapt out of her chair to help him, but he was already holding his damaged leg, cursing colorfully. This was just perfect. This was just _per-fect._ There were small lines of blood running through his leg. It was apparent something had torn inside of him. The blood was still pooling under the skin, blotching it a deep crimson-brown. Iron seemed to fill the air around the two as Eve chastised Kanda.

"Let me help you up--"

"I'm fine. I can get up my--" Kanda was suddenly slapped across the face. His eyes widened with surprise. No one had ever hit him. At least, not like that. It had been so unexpected, he didn't have time to retaliate. Eve's face was set in a determined mask.

"Let. Me. Help. You. Up." She spat out every word, meaning all of them. She tugged him off of the ground, supporting him as they lurched down the hall. Kanda wondered why she was even bothering to help him. This was even more cruel than if she let him try to crawl back to his room by himself.

She helped him into bed. She'd gotten a large hypodermic needle as well, starting to drain the blood out of Kanda's leg. He watched unnervingly as it filled steadily with his blood.

"Why am I still bleeding? Why haven't I died of blood loss yet?" he asked wearily. Eve's eyes flicked to him and back to her syringe.

"Your body is still producing blood cells as fast as you're losing them. Still, your blood supply's dwindling. We'll have to start you on some transfusions soon if I don't hurry up and read your file. Lucky you. You get my full attention now that Mr. Rakaishama is dead." Kanda looked up puzzled. He knew Rakaishama. He'd been a parasitic type user, one of the few that were around.

"Why…why did he die?" Eve stopped in her tracks. She couldn't tell him. Not now.

"That's confidential," she stated tersely, leaving after disposing the needle. Kanda watched her leave wordlessly.

He rubbed his leg where the needle had punctured the skin. A crimson tear pulsed out. He sighed.

Some days, he wondered why even tried to wake up any more.

* * *

: So, yeah. I've been extra busy with this story, if you haven't noticed. I've been neglecting my others viciously. -____-"" Send me a message or something if you want me to continue the others (though Amestris AD is a bit of given though; I'll continue that after I'm done with some Writer's Block). Sorry for the uber-length. Flame me, scorch me, I don't care.

And now, I go to write some more fics and...eh, well...shirk my laundry.

PEACE!


	3. Outpatient

The bathroom was cold and bland, offering no hint of personality. It was the same as the rest of the hospital, sterile and void of humanity. Eve stood in front of the sink, shaking. Her arms held her up, her knuckles white as she gripped the rim of the sink. She looked up into her own eyes in the mirror.

She was starting to go. Dear God, she was starting to go, just like he was.

Pressing a hand to the back of her neck, she took a syringe out of her pocket. She tore off the cap on the needle and took out a vial of something from her pocket. Shakily, she tried to fill the vial with the syringe, but she couldn't seem to direct her hand to hit the shiny foil covering on the bottle.

"Come on, come on damn it all," she muttered to herself, gritting her teeth.

Suddenly, the squeak of a door made her gasp and run into a stall. The sounds of tired footsteps met her ears. She squeezed her eyes shut in pain, trying not to scream. The vial was in her hand, but she couldn't use it. She needed this, and she needed it now.

Eve had chosen to hide in a men's bathroom because of the lack of expectancy one would find if she was in there. Still, that upside had become a downfall she now realized. A woman in a men's bathroom was all too noticeable if she was seen.

The sound of running water made her open her eyes. Warily, she peeked underneath the stall door to see who was outside. There was a pair of bare feet, but she couldn't tell whose. However, the tread of the feet was familiar. Suddenly, she remembered.

Damn! Why'd he have to end up in a bathroom at two in the morning?!

The reason was, Kanda had been sleepless for quite a while. He'd managed to skip his codeine pills, and the pain was back, but at least he could think and move clearly. True, he was a bit more irate, and he'd thrown a coffee mug at more than one person already in the past twenty-four hours, but he had to admit that he was doing better than before.

After Eve had finally deemed him ready to undergo her treatment, he'd taken it immediately. He had a noticeable difference in cell production, if what she had said was to be believed. He'd even managed to beat Allen during a rather spontaneous arm-wrestling match. The guy was still a wimp, even after Kanda had undergone multiple surgeries to fix his stomach and lungs. At first, the doctors had been wary of putting him under the knife, but everything had gone semi-smoothly. Kanda was still bleeding randomly from separate bruises or cuts sustained from knocking into chairs or doorjambs, but otherwise everything was almost back to normal.

His sleeping arrangements hadn't improved, though. The nights were still empty unless he took a pill every now and then, but after an idiot accidentally overdosed him into sleeping an extra twelve hours, he'd sworn off sleep meds. Eve had nearly blown an artery when she learned that he'd nearly OD'd.

Speaking of Eve, Kanda was still furious with her. Several times a day, they jabbed at each other verbally and physically. Kanda would say something rude, and then she'd pick at him for the rest of the day. Some days it was Eve who started it, and then the rest of the day was everyone else's hell. Their bickering, swearing, and all out battles had nearly become legendary. Kanda couldn't deny, she was some woman for picking a fight with him. Didn't mean she wasn't a right little bastard though.

Kanda started to leave the bathroom. Tomorrow he'd be admitted as an outpatient, and he'd be free to move back into his room. They'd already started formulating their theories and speculations, so he wasn't needed anymore. He didn't have one foot out the door before he heard it.

A whimper. That was all it had been. A small piece of sound that had shattered out of someone's throat. Kanda stopped. Who else could've been in the bathroom with him? He turned to look behind him. There was a pair of very feminine-looking, very unsteady feet in one of the stalls. They were still now, though, as if they knew that they were caught.

Kanda walked straight to the stall and kicked it open. Eve looked up at him with angry eyes.

"Haha. You found me." Her voice was tremulous and wavering. Her eyes kept shifting and darting, and her hands wouldn't stop shaking either. A syringe was in one hand, and a vial was in another.

"What, are you just going to sit there like a dumbass, or are you going to help me?" she asked through gritted teeth. Kanda stared at her, wondering what was going on. She offered him the vial, her hand continuing to shiver. The liquid inside of the vial moved as her hand trembled.

He pretended to take it from her, and she dropped it. It shattered on the ground into a million pieces, clear fluid spreading across the floor. Eve's eyes widened considerably, and her gaze flickered between him and ground several times.

"You…you…you…YOU DUMB MOTHERF--" She stood up and kicked the side of the stall. Kanda growled back, "The hell I'm going to just give you some weird drug at two in the morning. For all I know, that was methadone or something." Eve seethed and shoved him backwards away from her. Unsteadily, she walked towards the exit.

Kanda glared at her retreating back and felt something warm and sticky flow down his chest. He glanced down and nearly cursed. There was blood seeping out from underneath his shirt! It must've happened when Eve had shoved him. He checked underneath it, but he couldn't find any sign of an opening. There was a bruise, though that was nothing new anymore, but no cut or scrape that could've caused the blood.

An idea struck Kanda. He looked down at the floor. There were blood droplets in a small, almost unnoticeable trail going out the door. He looked at the exit and could only wonder what the hell that doctor had been doing.

"She probably deserved it," he muttered to himself, decidedly limping back to his room.

* * *

Allen stood outside of Kanda's door uncertainly. He was going to knock, but he didn't know if he should. It was going to be awfully awkward, that was for sure. It wasn't his fault that Bakanda was so prickly. Lavi had yet to visit the samurai, and Lenalee was scheduled to see him soon as well. Allen decided just to push the door open.

He was surprised to see that there was no one inside. The bed was made, and all the machines were turned off. No one was in the bed, and all personal affects had been removed. Allen was bewildered. Did he have the wrong room? Suddenly, a terrifying thought hit him.

During that short interlude before he could see him, did Kanda…?

"Hey, Moyashi, you're in my way." Allen spun around to find Kanda impatiently tapping his foot. His arms were crossed, and he didn't seem worse for wear, though his eyes still sported dark rings underneath them. Allen quickly moved out of Kanda's way.

"Oh, uh…where, uh, were you?" Allen asked awkwardly. Kanda didn't answer for a few minutes as he pulled open drawers and made sure everything of his wasn't in the room.

"I went to get the stupid treatment that bitch of a doctor gives me." The treatment consisted of a strange looking liquid that was injected into the back of the neck, an odd place for an injection Kanda had noted. Still, it had burned like hell, and it gave him headaches, but if it kept him from suddenly dropping an arm during training, he'd take it. Already, he'd had to get a finger reattached.

Not. Fun.

Kanda sat on the bed, letting an unrestricted breath whoosh out of him. He looked to Allen and asked, "Well? What're you here for?" Allen shuffled and said, "Oh! Uh, well, I just wanted to, er…talk to you, I guess." Kanda looked at him with a deadpan look.

"You wanted to talk."

"Um, yeah."

"About what?" Allen was suddenly stuck for an answer. He had no idea what he had wanted to talk to Kanda about. And, knowing the Moyashi as he did, Kanda had expected that.

"Whatever. I'm going to the training room."

"Er, uh, sure! Um…wait a minute, Lenalee was going to visit you--"

"Then, she can do that when I'm in the training room." Allen watched Kanda leave abruptly, shutting the door behind him loudly. Allen suddenly heard the sounds of two bodies smacking together and opened the door.

"Ugh! You idiot! Watch where you're going!" Kanda said as he righted himself. Eve was on the ground rubbing her butt. She got up and sneered at him. "You watch it, Fem-face!"

An argument ensued, and Allen could only sigh. They were always like this. It didn't ever seem to cease. Kanda had found a new playmate, Komui had joked.

Finally, Kanda extricated himself from the ongoing argument. As he walked out of the Infirmary, he realized that he wasn't in Eve's realm any more. She couldn't command him to do something, and he was free to eat what he wanted, sleep when he wanted, and do…well, anything. He grunted to himself, glad of this newfound freedom. It was true when they said you didn't know what you had until it was gone.

And the first thing he was going to do was get Mugen. He hadn't practiced with his sword for over a week, longer than he'd ever gone without training. If he didn't do something now, he was going to go insane.

Kanda was hardly aware that Allen was in the training room with him until he heard the sound of an Innocence activated. He turned around and smirked. So Allen wanted his poor behind beat again, did he?

Kanda, having found Mugen, brandished it boldly. Allen activated Crown Clown, ready to fight. They each took a fighting stance, and the air was tense for a few moments. There was a second of silence. And then another second. And then--

CHING!

Kanda pressed his sword against Allen's claws, pushing back. He disengaged instinctively, and the two flew off in separate directions. Allen charged forward into a lunge. Kanda parried, sliding the claws down and away from himself. Then another lunge, this time with an upward cut. Kanda backed away from it easily, getting back into the groove of footwork and motion.

This was the only way that both Allen and Kanda could share any type of emotion without feeling awkward or stupid. This was the only way the both of them could admit anything without having to give up their pride. This was the only way that Allen and Kanda could exist without repelling each other away with harsh words or pregnant silence. Combat was all they knew, and combat was all they could relate to with each other. It was just their way. Neither was obligated to say anything during the fight. All they had to do was go with that instinct of _move, dodge, jump, hit, slash._

Kanda did a wall jump, dodging Allen's Clown Belt. He leapt off another wall and landed behind Allen, pressing his sword to the small of Allen's back triumphantly. Suddenly, the sword was gripped in the web of Crown Clown's belt, and Kanda had to let go of it lest it be ripped out of his hands.

Kanda cursed as well as uttering a fierce 'che'. That'd been too close for comfort. Mugen lay gleaming across the room. There was another still moment. Allen looked at Kanda with a small smile though sweat was dripping down his face. Despite Kanda's decline in health, he was still immensely strong. Kanda glanced at Mugen. Allen could guess what was on his mind.

Suddenly, Kanda sprinted for the sword. He was sure he could beat Allen to it. Even in his state, he could still outrun the Moyashi with his little stick legs. Kanda nearly made it, too. That is, if it hadn't been for a pebble.

A small pebble managed to beat one of the best of the best in the Order. If anyone had known, they would've laughed as long as they were outside of Kanda's hearing.

Kanda's ankle suddenly crushed in on itself as his foot hit the pebble the wrong way. His eyes widened as a searing pain raced up his legs to his brain. Instantly, he was launched forward, head over heels. He kept rolling over and over. Suddenly, everything seemed to slow down a little bit. Kanda's eyes widened as he flew over Mugen, its blade gleaming as if waiting for its master to pick it up and restart the fight again. Kanda's hand reached out to take it as he flew over--

There was a sickening crunch as Kanda's back smashed against a pillar. He didn't even have enough time to scream. A spray of blood marked the hit, and he was on the ground face down, crumpled. Allen sprang forwards and knelt next to Kanda. He flipped him over, horrified to find that a small dribble of blood was leaking out of the man's mouth. He winced in pain and said, "Well, Moyashi, you get your wish."

Allen, confused, asked, "What wish? What are you talking about?" Was delirium part of the disease?

Kanda smiled bitterly and answered, "I guess Lenalee does get to visit me in the Infirmary." With that parting word, he blacked out. Allen's gray eyes widened. A crowd of people had already started to gather as Allen shouted frantically, "Hey! Get a doctor! We need help! Someone help, please!"

* * *

Once again, Kanda found himself wearing an oxygen mask. This time, however, the Exorcist in the room wasn't asleep. The samurai was mildly surprised to find Allen sitting next to him. His face was etched with worry, no matter how hard he tried to hide it behind a false smile. His eyes were lie detectors to his soul.

With a deep sigh and the hiss of the oxygen mask, Kanda weakly asked, "What…" Allen stopped him, placing a hand in the air. His eyes were kind as he said, "We were in the training room. You must've done something to your ankle, because you tripped and fell. After that, you smashed into a pillar and…well, Eve wasn't happy. You'll be getting a load of hell from her." Kanda rolled his eyes. That woman would be spewing fire right now. She was probably waiting outside the door like some sort of dragon, the hypocrite. She didn't even take care of herself. Who was she to judge another person's health?

"Why'd you stay?" Allen looked hesitant. He turned to look at the window. Link was waiting outside, but he was a good distance away. Lately, the watchers had become very complacent. Allen, however, was always on his guard, ready to fend off the Fourteenth should he reappear. It was strange that the one being watched did a better job than those watching him. No offense to Link of course.

Allen was silent for a little while longer before he finally said, "I wanted to make sure you woke up." Kanda gave him a briefly confused look. Allen and Kanda had never been the best of friends, but they'd never been the worst either. In fact, friends could be used pretty loosely with the two Exorcists, though their fighting was more jabbing than actual melee combat. Kanda's confused look made Allen realize that he had no idea why Allen would do such a thing as to make sure that Kanda woke up for certain.

"It's because you're my friend."

"Oh."

Allen looked at the samurai in the hospital bed. It was such a strange mix. Kanda had hardly ever been sick a day in his life, and now he was suddenly deteriorating right before their eyes. A simple training session had turned disastrous. A needle could be an effective weapon against him. Tripping had suddenly become fatal. These were all things that applied to an old man, not the person here in the room with him.

"You don't trust the doctors?" The question caught Allen off guard. He looked mildly surprised and answered, "No! No, no, I didn't mean that, it's just…I want to be there for you. Even if you aren't for me." Kanda rolled his eyes, and Allen knew he'd make some snappy comeback.

"Allen, sometimes you're such a sap, you know that?" The alabaster-haired Exorcist smiled sadly. It suddenly occurred to him that Kanda had refrained from calling him Moyashi, and had instead opted to use his real name for the first time in years. It was almost proof that Kanda was either dying or getting that way. Kanda wasn't nice. He wasn't ever nice. Not like this, anyhow.

"Are you sure they haven't put you on loopy drugs or something?" Kanda gave a short 'ha.'

"No. I'm not. That Eve's probably got me drugged up on something they test on horses." Allen smiled. Kanda cracking jokes. That was a new one.

"Yeah, because you're making up jokes now. They've definitely got you on something. Or it's just you being a Ba-Kanda."

"Shut up, Moyashi. I can't control what the hell they put in me."

Their conversation was light and never touched anything too serious or depressing. As Allen was about to leave, Kanda watched him go with a hint of hurt. He'd never decided to get to know Allen as well as he should've. Then again, he'd never really gotten to know anyone period. It wasn't his fault he didn't like people. He couldn't force himself to like something.

Still, the Moyashi hadn't been all that bad. They'd never hit each other once, or even insulted each other. It seemed like, with Death breathing down their necks, they'd hit a sort of truce. Kanda also had to admit it was sort of for Lenalee's sake. If he fought with the Moyashi until the very end…

Suddenly, the door was opened again, and Kanda knew he was in for it. Eve was standing there with a face as still as stone. She looked like a statue of an avenging goddess with her arms crossed and a syringe in one hand pointed up for added effect. It struck Kanda that he was actually helpless in this state, and the woman could do anything she wanted with him. _Anything _she wanted.

But she was a doctor! A doctor who probably did drugs, a small voice in his head stated. Doctors don't hurt patients. This one does, the voice reminded. Still, he refused to be afraid of her. This woman was not going to make him bow down.

Eve's eyes were a disconcerting laser beam of focus. He couldn't meet her gaze and stare for too long. It was like looking into the sun. She tapped the needle against her arm and said, "So…you didn't listen to anything I told you during the orientation about what an outpatient should do." She walked to the side of the bed, averting her gaze to the machines. She adjusted some tubes and said, "I know that because I said…"

She pressed a dial on another monitor. "…not to train…"

There, another dial again, this one on the bed. The hospital bed rose slightly. She finally looked at Kanda from her leant-over posture next to the bed. "…for at least two weeks."

After she had finished, she straightened back up and held a small vial. This one was almost identical to the one Kanda had found her in the bathroom with, but the liquid wasn't quite as clear. There was a slight, yellowish tint to it. Kanda had been dreading this. He looked up to the clock. Yep, it was five. Treatment time again.

Eve looked at Kanda critically, her hand against her mouth. How was she supposed to administer the treatment if she couldn't disrupt his rib cage? He'd broken several bones in the back of the rib cage area. They were currently being held together by pins and screws that they'd had to place in a hurry. Finally, she said, "Roll over."

Kanda obliged, but found that the oxygen mask was getting in the way. He pointed to it, refusing to talk to her. She rolled her eyes and took it off for him. They'd placed a number code on the strap so he couldn't tear it off like every other one he'd destroyed. Kanda took a deep breath of unfiltered air, wincing as his ribs expanded.

Eve smiled triumphantly. "Yeah. Feel that? You broke nearly six ribs. Your ankle was crushed. You nearly dislocated an arm and a leg. I hope you're happy now. I certainly am because maybe this will make you reconsider your outpatient activities, Femme." Kanda glared at her, and rolled over. He wouldn't talk to her. That's just what he'd do. He wouldn't speak a word to her unless it pertained to his medical health.

He nearly jumped when her chilly hands moved his hair out of the way. Why the hell were doctors' hands so cold all the time? It was like they dealt with corpses all day or something. A dab of alcohol was wiped over the injection area, and the cold needle suddenly plunged into flesh. Kanda squeezed his eyes shut. It wasn't the needle's entry that was the worst part. The worst part came after the needle was removed.

Suddenly, there was an absence of feeling in the back of his neck, and a second of numbness like the calm before the storm.

Kanda's brain was met with a bright explosion of pain. Kanda's hand flew to the back of his neck where the stinging was starting to happen. Vaguely, he could see Eve throwing away the hypodermic needle and the vial in a biohazardous waste materials bucket. Her eyes were devoid of emotion as she reported, "You'll be feeling a slight sting for a while and a definite headache. This is a new treatment, by the by, and its basically like the other one in a stronger dose. You'll want to keep moving around to a minimum." She looked at his bound ankle.

"Not like you can move much anyways," she muttered. Looking back to the hospital bed, she noticed that Kanda hadn't moved back onto his back, his natural sleeping position. She smirked and said, "Yeah, it stings, doesn't it?"

He didn't answer.

She walked over to him. He was still awake because his eyes followed her as she moved, but she could tell he wasn't going anywhere for a while. Eve looked at him dispassionately and asked, "Are you going to roll over or what? Your ribs are going to set like that if you don't go back." He glared at her like a caged animal before lying on his back painfully.

"Why…why does it sting so much?" Kanda asked, surprised at himself that he was asking a question. Eve didn't answer for a moment as she flicked the drip on his IV. She sighed and stated, "I honestly don't know. Maybe it's just because the medicine's in such a strong concentration that it causes pain receptors to go haywire. Or it just hurts because I like to make people suffer."

He rolled his eyes. That seemed like her. He took a deep breath, and instantly regretted it. Eve smiled at him disconcertingly and she left him alone with his thoughts.

As he stared at the ceiling, he contemplated what he was going to do now. He'd gone from outpatient to inpatient in a record-breaking thirty minutes. Everything hurt. He couldn't even move without a spike of pain being driven into his head or his limbs. Death suddenly didn't seem like such a bad alternative.

But as he thought that way, he mentally kicked himself. There was no way that he was going to die. If he was going to die, it was because he would be doing something worthwhile. He wouldn't be strapped to a hospital bed. This couldn't end like this, in such a pitiful, depressing way.

Strange, he thought, I always thought I'd die with a bang, not a whisper.

The subject of death brought many other things into perspective. Kanda thought of all the things he'd never gotten to do. There weren't many of them, but some were key to life in general. He'd never dated a girl (he hadn't been interested). He'd never have a family (you kind of had to date to get a family first). There hadn't ever been anything outside of the Order for him. Everywhere he went, the Order had sent him. He'd never gone to a place just to _go_ there.

He'd never see Zhu again. He'd never see Lenalee. He'd never see Allen or Lavi. So many people central to his life would be gone. He would vanish before their eyes like a dust cloud or mist in the sun. He realized it hadn't really been what he'd done that was important: it was more, whom he'd met.

As turned his head to stare out the window, he thought about the people who had shaped his life. Komui and Lenalee, definitely. Twi Chan and her partner, Mr. Epstein. Lavi, the stupid rabbit, had somehow become integrated into his life. Allen, the Moyashi, had managed to weasel his way into it too.

And now, they were going to disappear.

Or rather, he was. He'd be leaving them behind. Or was he? Was he dying? Could Eve come up with a way to figure out how to stop this? She'd done it to other Exorcists, slowed down the process to the point where it was like they were aging naturally. Perhaps the same treatment would work.

And then again, it might not. There was always a pessimistic voice in his head, whispering things that were best not heard. What if? What if? What if? He needed to stop thinking about 'what if'. What about what will be? No, he couldn't think about that either. What will be might never be. He needed to focus on the present. He needed to focus on laying the groundwork of leaving his life behind with no regrets. And that brought up yet another slew of questions.

Did he have regrets? What did he ever regret? Should he make amends?

Kanda had contemplated death before. Many times, he had thought about it. Some missions were harder than others. For some Exorcists, they were too hard, and some times they never came back. Kanda had had a close scrape here and there, leaning towards Death's door a little too much. Skin Boric had been his first real taste of death. The ark had disappeared. There had been nothing, nothing at all. Was that how death felt? Like a giant nothingness?

It hadn't been good. But it hadn't been bad either.

* * *

Lavi walked down the hallway quietly, his boots echoing against the tile floor. The hospital was dark save for the odd fluorescent light every few feet. They cast strange shadows across the floor, and it was eerily quiet. As he neared Kanda's room, he heard another noise. His head turned to follow it, and he caught the image of a disappearing high heel going into an office. Lavi's eyebrows nearly had a reunion as he followed it.

Inside was an office, and inside of the office was a beautiful woman. At least, to Lavi that was. His eyes seemed to form hearts, and in his head he was yelling 'STRIKE!' Still, he managed propriety as he noticed that, not only was this woman pretty, she was Kanda's doctor.

Lucky bastard, he thought, he manages to get a cute doctor to work on him. And he probably takes it for granted.

Eve looked behind her briefly as she felt eyes stare at her. Her confused expression lightened and she said, "Ah. You. What do you want?" Lavi cupped his chin. Strong and to the point. No wonder she was Kanda's caretaker.

"Nothing. I just saw you in here, and wondered who you might be. You're Kanda's doctor, right?" Eve nodded. She sat at her desk and started spreading out files, sighing as she did so. A name on the top of each file caught Lavi's eye. They were all in Chinese, but Lavi was proficient in several languages. Each of them stated 'Synthetic Disciples Project.' This was odd. What could she be doing with files that were in Chinese with that title?

"Eh, eh, those look interesting. What could you be doing with those?" he asked, tapping the files from across her desk. She looked up, a ghostly cast on her face. Only the desk lamp was on, and it gave her a slightly haunted appearance. Her gaze was steely as she asked coldly, "Do you mind? I'd like to get back to saving your friend, and reading Chinese isn't exactly easy to do when you're talking to me." Lavi backed up with his hands in a submissive posture.

"All right, all right, no need to get defensive. I just wanted to know what you were doing," Lavi said. His eye was closed for a moment before the green orb flipped open again to look at the complicated configurations of molecules that dotted her desk.

"Oy, this looks difficult. I can read Chinese, you know. I could help," Lavi offered. Eve looked at him wearily. He seemed like he genuinely wanted to help Kanda…

She handed him a file. "Get crackin'." It was only after about three pages did Lavi realize just how heavy duty all of this Chinese really was. As learned as he was with languages, this was hard to read, even for a Junior Bookman.

"Ayai, this is hard," he whined to himself, sprawling out into a chair. Eve looked at him with an amusedly cocked eyebrow. Her face showed she wasn't irritated yet, but it could be seen that it might be getting close to that point. She leaned on her hands, her face cupped between them.

"Yes, it is. That is why I need this dictionary--" She held up a large medical edition Chinese-to-English dictionary, "-- and two pots of coffee." Said pots were sitting cold on the counter. Lavi watched Eve as she went back to work, her face serious and drained. Lavi frowned. He'd heard the horror stories from the other orderlies about Kanda and Eve's constant bickering and battling. Why was she working so hard to keep him alive? She looked like she hadn't had a good night's sleep in about a week.

"Eve?"

"Yes."

"Why are you taking such good care of Kanda?"

There was a period of silence. Eve didn't look up, but her pencil had ceased to move. Her eyes were fixed on one spot on her desk, and she didn't look up at Lavi. He thought he could actually hear the hamster running a mile a minute on the little wheel in her head.

Finally, she answered, "If I didn't, I'd end up fired. Besides, it's a puzzle I want to solve. If he dies, so does the puzzle. I don't get to fix it." She went back to writing little notes down. Lavi frowned worriedly. The only reason why this woman was helping Yuu-chan was because he was basically a puzzle of a type? But no one ever obsessed this much over a puzzle, no matter how hard it was. There was something else behind this.

Lavi shrugged and said, "Either way, you should probably sleep. You're going to tire yourself out to the point where you'll fall into a coma, and Kanda'll die before you wake up. Then you'll never work on your puzzle." The scritch-scratch of her pencil stopped, and she gave him a focused stare. He returned it, albeit warily. He was afraid she might turn him into a frog or something.

"All right. If you insist." She got up, pushing back from the desk. Her chair squeaked as she got out of it.

"If you are so concerned," she added with a sarcastic look. He smiled at her charmingly, and Eve wanted so bad to wipe that smile off of his face.

She had other reasons for wanting to work on this. But he'd brought up a good point. She wasn't going to fix the problem by overworking herself. As she left, she grabbed her coat and began walking down the hall.

While she left, Lavi watched as she briskly walked to her quarters. He looked at her in confusion. A strange woman indeed.

He looked at the name plate of the office, remembering the last name especially. He wanted to look something up later.

* * *

Dr. Yok: I finally did it! Well, mainly because I'm stuck in my house with nothing to do, but I finally finished this chapter! Sorry, this is a sort of filler chapter. Not much happens...unless you're a sadist and you enjoy Kanda-suffering. Now, for the long list of reviewees (I'M CRYING OF HAPPINESS!!!): thanks to kayter, Chocomintkt, Nyankichi, waterlit, Lord Makura, marufu-chan, and merichuel! Wow, this list is so long! I'm so happy, I wanna explode...

But I won't. Because I shall continue to write fanfiction. And because I have no life. *sigh*


	4. Deadline

Once again, Kanda found himself in front of a toilet puking his guts out. He didn't really remember when he stumbled out of bed, or when he'd started getting stomach pains. All he knew as of that moment was that his head hurt, his throat was on fire, and he could taste blood in his mouth. Another Technicolor yawn made him drop to his knees. He leaned his forehead against the cool porcelain. Why was this happening all over again? He'd been doing so well. For an entire week, nothing had happened. Even Eve seemed to be in a good mood at the time, commenting mildly that he seemed to be progressing. She was smug as she gave him a soft punch in the arm, and he didn't wince. The strange, slightly sadistic doctor seemed to be relishing the fact that her treatment was working.

It seemed that all of that was going down the toilet, literally. He was throwing up everything he'd eaten, and then some. Finally, when he only had bile to throw into the toilet, he was surprised to find someone holding back his long hair. Cold hands felt his forehead and his neck before leaving him. They came back again, but they were heaving him away from the toilet.

Kanda blearily followed, noticing that the body bracing him was smaller than his by a long shot. He was led to the sink, and he could hear the water run. He didn't want to open his eyes, though, because he had a feeling he knew who was helping him. His brain didn't want to register the fact, because it didn't seem plausible, or even possible--

"Here, lean over a little bit. There, that's good. Lean on me, it'll make it easier," a soft voice said wearily. He obliged, and the cold hands were wiping off his face and his neck. They were incredibly gentle, too gentle. This didn't make sense. Was this part of the disease?

"Come on. Let me put you back in bed. We'll see what's wrong in the morning," the voice said, the tremulous alto voice gravelly with morning bleariness. He felt the cold hands take one arm and sling it over a slim, but strong, neck. The other hand went around his waist, and he was going down the hall. He didn't want to open his eyes. Not yet.

"You're almost there. Don't go out on me now. You're way too heavy to drag. I might tear something," the voice said, though the words weren't making much progress in his mind. It was a sluggish thing, refusing to work as it should. His legs were weak, almost as if they'd been atrophied. His body wasn't in top shape, not like it used to be. He sadly regarded this as his hands groped around for the bed he knew was in front of him.

The hands helped him sit and slide into the bed, reassuring him of their presence. They were too soft, too gentle. He'd always imagined them like marble, hard and unyielding. Why were they like this now? He knew who they belonged to. He knew from whose mouth those words were issued from. He refused to believe it, though. Did she have a sister? Was there another woman that bore the same voice and hands, with a different name?

Why was Eve laying a hand on his forehead, then on his neck?

How had she come into the equation as the comforter instead of the tormentor? Always, always, she was the one wielding needle and scalpel. When had she suddenly become, not just a doctor, but a caregiver? Where was the nurse? What time was it?

He cracked his eyes open, finally. Eve's face was white, gaunt. She looked like she'd drop dead soon. Her dark brown eyes were filled with regret and…pity? No, no pity. It was something else. Suddenly, she shut her eyes and said, "No worries, Kanda. Sleep. We'll get you fixed up in the morning. You'll be fine." Kanda's gray eyes followed her as she started to leave. She lingered at the door, contemplative.

Was this all a dream? Would he fall asleep and not remember any of this in the morning? Was this why she was leaving so suddenly, after he starts to wake up from what seemed to be a nightmare? Maybe all of this was a nightmare, and he'd wake up later.

Eve was still standing at the door, thinking, when his eyes slid shut, and he was gone.

* * *

Outside, in the rain, Eve walked. Her heart was heavy as she carried results in her hands. They were drenched by now, the ink running. She sat at a bench, the water cascading down her face and into her hair. Her eyes were nearly blank, lifeless. How long? How long was this going to last?

She stared at the results, the blurring lines of script having long become meaningless to her. Pain echoed through her hollow heart. It had just begun to fill. Why was it so painful? When had agony become attached to this case? Everyone was asking her so many questions.

The rain pattered on her face as she looked up.

"I thought this would work."

The clouds darkened, then lightened as lightning lit up the sky.

"I thought I could do it."

Why had she tried so hard?

"I though I had it."

In her mind's eye, she was replaying the events of the past twenty-four hours. She had been peering over file after file. A knock at the door made her look up, and she had seen an old man with a heavily casted leg standing there. She hadn't said anything, just gestured for him to sit.

Zhu entered the room, his good eye tracking the woman as she continued to look over her files. He had read them over many times, wondering and hoping. Was this woman doing the same thing?

"Hello. I believe we have met before?" Zhu asked politely. Eve had looked up briefly before answering tersely, "Yes." Zhu continued to stare at the woman, who continued to scribble on a pad of paper, before saying, "I…have news. Important information on the case."

This made the pencil stop. Eve straightened in her chair considerably, and Zhu imagined her as a crow attracted to a very shiny object. She nodded, motioning him to go on.

Zhu sighed. He had started slowly, the story pouring out like pebbles out of a bag. He noticed that Eve's face was growing darker and darker, her expression hardening. Zhu's hands trembled as he finally reached his conclusion.

It was here that Eve stopped her mental rewind in a freeze frame.

"Why are you so cruel to me? Why do you throw this back in my face this way?" she whispered to the sky. "How could you do such a thing? Giving me a taste of victory, only to snatch it away. Cruel."

Her soliloquy continued. "I wish…I wish…"

What did she wish? What was there to wish for? And why should she wish? It was no use to wish. And yet, useless hope was buried in her heart, just underneath all of the grit of years of hard work and cynicism.

"…for more time. I wished I had more time." It was useless to wish.

* * *

Kanda sat in his room idly, watching the gray sky. He'd seen Eve outside not too long ago, and she hadn't had an umbrella. He told a nurse, and the nurse nervously told him that Eve did this type of thing a lot-- she had an inbred immunity to colds.

Kanda had scoffed. "Stupid doctor. I can't have her getting a cold if she's supposed to be saving my life." The nurse had quickly left the room not long after.

Now he was sitting here, waiting for that disgusting stuff they called 'breakfast'. It was a nutritional slop, intended to make one healthier but only succeeding in grossing patients out. Kanda had had to eat the stuff for the past week, and he was almost glad that he'd thrown all of it up last night. He was dreading eating again, though. For some reason, his body seemed to be rejecting food, though earlier this morning he'd gone to the cafeteria for a snack, and nothing had happened.

Still, he was musing about his doctor. She'd been _gentle…_

Suddenly, the door opened, and Lenalee walked in with a large tray of soba noodles. Kanda's face grew a surprised expression, and he realized that he hadn't had soba in months. His stomach growled audibly, and he winced. Apparently, his stomach had missed his favorite dish as well.

Lenalee gave a winning smile and said, "Eve said you could have these. Her words were 'you passed the test this morning.'" Kanda wanted to scream. She'd been trailing him to the kitchen! That little…

He looked at the soba. So the trailing hadn't let to all bad things. He looked at Lenalee suspiciously, as if she was going to suddenly say, "Just kidding!" and snatch the entire tray away. He picked up the chopsticks and clicked them experimentally. He was rusty from having had to use a spoon to scoop mush all the time.

"Where's the dragon?" he asked with his mouth full of food. He'd gone about a mile per second with his food. Lenalee chuckled as she put a hand over his arm and said, "Slow down. You're going to choke on your food." Kanda frowned at her, but heeded her warning, going just a mite bit slower as he chomped his way through the entire bowl.

"So what's with the sudden change of heart?" Kanda asked. Lenalee looked perplexed and admitted, "I don't know. She just said to send this up to you, and I was there so I offered. I wanted to talk to you. How've you been feeling?"

"I've had better days," Kanda said dryly. He tapped his chopsticks on the rim of the bowl.

Lenalee and Kanda talked for awhile. As before with Allen, they never touched on anything very serious or sad. It was mostly every day things. That was, until they'd reached the end of their conversation.

"Kanda, I'm glad you were there. For me, that is," she said almost unconsciously. Kanda's eyes cut to her, wondering what that could mean.

"Wait…what?" he asked simply. She looked at him with violet eyes and smiled.

"You were always there for me. You probably don't remember it, or even think much of it, but you were like…like, my support system. You, and Allen, and Lavi, and Komui. You were like…my big brother. The one that didn't act like my sister," she said with a smile. Kanda stared at his lap for a moment. He'd never thought of it that way. It was true, he'd been there for her when Leverrier had scared the crap out of her. Several times, he'd saved her during missions. He'd let her into his life little by little.

He guessed he was a sort of big brother.

There was a loud knock on the door. Both Exorcists looked up to the doctor standing in the doorway. Eve looked slightly haggard, her skin still quite damp from her time in the rain. She'd changed into new clothes, and since she didn't wear make-up she had no black streaks down her face. However, her hair was still dripping as she walked in.

"Lenalee, I need to talk to Kanda," Eve said abruptly. Lenalee looked slightly surprised, but smiled at Kanda and left. He watched her leave with a stern set of face. He pointed to the empty bowls.

"What was with the treat?" he asked. "And what was up with last--"

"Kanda, you're going to be glad you're sitting down after I tell you what's going on." Kanda's gaze trailed from her face to a large wad of wet papers. He frowned. What he could still see of the writing, it was in Chinese. He didn't read Chinese, so he had no idea what they said. He had the feeling they were connected to the Second Exorcist Project, though.

"What is it?" His stare was glacial. Why was it that, last night, she'd suddenly been gentle? Why was it that she'd given him soba today? Why was it that she wasn't throwing quips and sarcastic remarks about how his hair was frazzled or that he'd had to reattach yet another finger? Something was bothering the woman, and he couldn't tell what it was.

Eve sat down in a chair and sighed. She put a hand to her forehead, leaning against the arm of the chair. Her face was angry, almost distraught. She didn't look like she was going to cry, but she did look like she wanted to take the nearest monitor, chair, or mug and smash it into millions of pieces. Her hand covered her mouth as she stared at the floor. Minutes of silence passed by. They were both waiting for someone to speak.

Finally, Eve said, "Kanda, you have an expiration date."

The words, at first, didn't make sense. Kanda frowned heavily. Expiration date? Why would he have an expiration date? How did someone have a set day to die? Kanda felt like he couldn't breathe. His life had been on borrowed time. He'd been ticking done to some unforeseen date in the future, and no one had _told him._ Eve continued talking.

"The Second Exorcist Project was, obviously, a success. You and Alma Karma were the first successful Syntehtic Disciples that made it through the project without completely falling apart immediately after birth. In those days, nearly a decade ago, they got cocky. They thought the war would end in a manner of years. They couldn't imagine that it would span for this long of a time. Because they thought they wouldn't need you any more, they created an expiration date in which you would die at a set time nearly twenty years after your creation. That was the plan for all Second Exorcists, even Alma Karma," Eve explained. Her gaze slanted to the window where the rain pittered softly.

"Most everyone knew. I imagine that…Mr. Epstein didn't. I believe he might've been against this idea of an expiration date. Twi Chan's notes suggest that she was forced into it was well. Leverrier was one of the brain parents of the plan," Eve said, her voice strangely detached. Kanda was staring into an empty bowl, as if he could suddenly switch places with it. A bowl could be chipped. It could be dropped. But it didn't have a self-destruct plan, at the least.

"You said twenty years."

"Yes, I did."

"I'm only twenty-five." Eve winced painfully. She took a deep breath and said, "Your tattoo and the Sangenshiki and Shouka sped up the deconstruction process." Kanda finally looked at her. He noticed something was glistening in one of her eyes. However, it disappeared in a flash, and Kanda put it as an illusion. Eve suddenly stood up and started to leave.

"Hey, hey, where are you going?! Aren't you supposed to be answering questions or something?" Kanda asked gruffly. Eve looked over her shoulder at him. The look she gave was scary because it wasn't something Kanda could place. She shook her head and started to walk out. She said, "I've got work to do. You'll have a visitor soon. I believe you now him well." With that the door shut behind her. Kanda flung back the covers and stood up, ready to go after her.

He stood there, unsure. Did he really want his questions answered? Could she answer them? Would she answer them? Eve seemed preoccupied with this new complication, and Kanda was afraid to ask what was on her mind. He bet she'd never had a patient with a deadline. They only deteriorated. But what was better? Knowing exactly when you're going to die? Or remaining oblivious to it until the final few minutes?

He sat back down on the bed. He stared at the wall. When was he going to die? Would she stop working on him because he was going to be dead anyways? He hadn't asked if he was workable any more. Maybe they'd keep him alive until the latest minute. Would they? What was the use?

Kanda looked at his hands. They were rough from years of fighting and sword practice. Even now, Mugen was sitting in a chair next to the bed like a faithful friend who would hold his hand every step of the way. He looked from his sword back to his hands. Two of his fingers had stitches all the way around the knuckles where they'd freed themselves of his flesh. They were nearly dead now, with the nerves hardly registering anything. He could still move them, but they were stiff.

Was this how he was going to go? One by one, his limbs would fail? It was an awful way to go. Kanda looked out the window and wondered if this could've ended any other way. He could've been shot multiple-- no, no that wouldn't have worked. He'd been almost impervious to Akuma bullets. What if he'd--? No. That would've meant they all would've died in the ark. At least he'd beaten Skin Boric beforehand.

He sighed as he lay back down on the bed. If he had a deadline…couldn't they finish with him now? Could he ask for them to pull the plug? What if he ended this on his own terms? Kanda rolled over to stare out the window. He stared at Mugen out of the corner of his eye and touched his Innocence softly. To die, piece by piece…

It almost made him want to cry.

The door opened, and Kanda sat up quickly. At the door, hesitant and more than slightly afraid, was Zhu. The old man tottered to the chair next to Kanda that Eve had vacated. He sat stiffly, and he looked at Kanda with his good eye. He was so thin…

Zhu couldn't believe how much Kanda had grown up. He was so tall, and his hair had gotten so long. But sickness was making his skin pale, and his eyes had started to lose their luster. His arms were thinner, and he looked so, so tired… Zhu's eyes filled with tears. He'd let this happen. How could he have let this happen.

"You…you've grown up," Zhu stated shakily, smiling unsuccessfully. Kanda stared into his lap. Zhu knew that Eve had spoken to him about what he'd told her last night. She'd said that his health had went into a steep decline not long afterwards. Something about an allergic reaction… Still, it was heartbreaking. Kanda was like Zhu's only child, and he could do nothing to stop the boy, no, the man's death. A shaky hand traveled towards Kanda's and gripped it firmly.

"I know…I know you probably hate me. I know you don't want to talk to me. I understand that, I do. I just…I just hadn't expected it to happen so soon," Zhu said, his voice full of pain. He looked at Kanda through new eyes. He looked at him, full of accomplishments and pride. He'd been like a star. Zhu couldn't put in words how proud or how thankful he was that he'd participated in Kanda's life.

"But…I want you to know that, no matter what happened…no matter what they did…I still saw you as my son."

Kanda looked up in surprise. Zhu was crying now, and his free hand was pressed against his mouth.

"I'm so sorry I never told you. I couldn't, though. How can I tell you something so heavy? You were full of life. I couldn't let death hang over you like a shadow. It wasn't…I couldn't…It was too much for you, Yuu. I couldn't do that to you," Zhu confessed. He had his head bowed. His hands shook as he said, "I watched you grow so fast from a stumbling child into a marvelous fighter. I taught you how to hold and care for Mugen, and I crafted it for you. To let you know…to let you know that someday, very early, you would die on an appointed date…"

Zhu lifted his head and looked Kanda straight into the eye as he said, "Kanda Yuu, I was honored to be your mentor." Kanda frowned, unsure of what to do. He reached a hand to Zhu's shoulder and grasped it. He looked him in the eyes and said, "And I was honored to be your student. You taught me…everything. Almost."

Zhu smiled shakily. "Stop humoring an old man." Kanda shook his head. He'd never considered how big a part of his life had Zhu played. The old man had, indeed, taught him nearly everything. He'd taught him that the lotuses were illusions. He'd taught him how to handle his sword. He'd done so many things and yet…

"I never got to thank you, did I?" Kanda asked softly, chuckling softly. Zhu smiled at him, a tear running down his face. He shook his head.

"No, you didn't dear student. You didn't. And you didn't have to." Zhu sniffled and embraced Kanda. He stiffened slightly at first, but relaxed. Cautiously, because he'd never done such a thing before, he awkwardly looped his arms around the old man. He leaned his head on the man's shoulder, and a tear slid down his face into the old man's shirt.

* * *

Eve sat in her office as she gazed at the sheet of paper. She didn't comprehend any of what she was reading; her mind was elsewhere at the moment. It was centered on two people as of then. She put down the paper and paced the room. She shivered. Why was it always so cold? She was always cold. Warmth had never made itself known to her.

She walked over to her filing cabinet. On top of it, a picture of a large team of people stood. They were all standing behind one child, who was emotionlessly smiling at the camera. Everyone in the picture was stoic, and the black and white quality of the photo made it seem more impersonal and synthetic. Eve stared at it blandly.

Some days she wished she'd never been born. Other days she considered other people lucky that she had. Several of her cases wouldn't be alive otherwise. Regardless, she didn't care one way or the other. It didn't really matter to her.

In reality, every time she said this, she was lying to herself. She worked every day of her life to keep herself from going into the black, never to return. It was like walking along a path made of glass over an abyss, and any wrong move would send her sprawling into the deep, endless pit. She shivered, and this time it wasn't the cold that caused the involuntary shudder.

She looked at her blackboard. It was full of chemical signatures and formulas. There were three separate sections-- one was for an Exorcist, one was for Kanda, and one… one was for herself. She touched the chalky board, contemplating all of her life's work. It had managed to preserve so many other lives, why couldn't she save her own?

She didn't want to die. She didn't want to have to face death, not now. She wasn't ready yet. She hadn't lived long enough. She didn't have enough time.

It was didn't matter.

And now, Kanda. He had a deadline. The papers had been too badly damaged to see the exact date, but it was soon. He was supposed start deconstructing five years from now, though. It was too early, but he could thank Shouka for that. Stupid scientists…

A knock on the door made Eve jump. She had been pacing, and she hadn't noticed it. She walked over to the door and wrenched it open.

"What?…Oh. It's you," she sighed. Link stood at the door. She glared at him as she leaned against the door frame.

"What, shouldn't you be harassing Walker right now? He might go Noah on you if you don't," she taunted, full well knowing what he was here for. Link's expression didn't change as he stated, "Ms. Rothshire, I am here to deliver a message." Eve's body stiffened, but she didn't move from the doorway.

"Well, have at it," Eve said tersely. Link looked left and right nervously before he said, "' To Ms. Rothshire, we have come to acknowledge that your time has become increasingly short. We would like to extend to you a way out. This method will be much easier. Quicker. Painless.'" Eve gave Link a stare that could melt walls.

"Get. Out. Tell the cronies at Central that they can shove their 'method' up their asses. I'll meet my own Maker on my own terms," she grumbled angrily. Link nodded. He understood that she wasn't necessarily shooting the messenger. At least, she was trying not to. He left as the door slammed.

Behind the door, Eve slumped against it, her head leant back against the firm wood. She shoved a breath out of her throat. Her hands were shaking, and her thoughts were scrambling for purchase along the scrabbly rock face of her mind. She'd known this was coming. She'd known that sooner or later someone was going to do something.

Eve shakily shifted her shirt sleeve off of her shoulder, exposing the flesh to the cold. Her eyes were about to fill with tears as she gritted her teeth and dug her nails into her shoulder.

Inked into her shoulder was a barcode.

* * *

Doctor Yok: Heeeeeello again! Yeah, this chapter is WAY shorter than the rest of them, but hopefully it still pertains some sort of angst and/or drama that we all have come to love. :D Been writing like crazy, man. Mainly because I'm sort of trapped in my house... But, I'm getting out to school soon, so the updates will slowly trickle in instead of being dumped on you like this. As well as homework and all that other junk...well.

Enough about that! Thank you Chocomintkt, and of course Se-tar for your excellent reviews. Also to Marufu-chan and crimsonangel3579! If reviews were candy, I'd be a fat kid.

Now, give me your thoughts, your feelings, all of that good stuff. Hell, make your own predictions and see who's right. I'll keep 'em comin'!


	5. Breaking The News

**A/N: **Okay, quite obviously, I owe a big apology to you people who have been waiting for a MONTH for this thing. I was having writer's block (as always) though that's no excuse. However, after reading chapter 190 in the manga, I was suddenly hit with the Giant, All-Knowing, Wonderful, Great Light Bulb of Ideas and/or Inspiration. So, I am continuing this against my better judgement, because reading your reviews make me happy. :] However, I warn thee. This sounds awfully like a bad hospital drama-- which it basically is.

Either way, I hope you enjoy it. Toodles-- Doctor Yok

* * *

**::Breaking The News::**

A room inside of the Order was quiet. Shocked faces ringed the room, where Exorcists who owned them sat on couches and on chairs. Smells of paper and ink filled the air, but that didn't matter now. The air was filled with silence, but it was so loud that it was nearly unbearable. Pain was echoing her song throughout the office with her lulling tones that begged for anesthetic and forgetfulness. It wasn't long before, finally, one of the Exorcists, a girl with long black hair and stricken violet eyes, asked, "How long will it take him to…to…"

Sentence couldn't be finished. It wasn't something that could be finished, not by her lips or her tongue. It was too cliché a phrase, too many times heard in a hospital drama as well as in real life. These words were poison to her heart, and dripped acidic sadness through her veins that led to her throat and caused it to clog. Her voice could not say those words, not even if she received the courage enough to utter them.

Another voice, razor sharp and metallic in its emotionless quality, answered, "I don't know. It will be long and painful. Long enough is all I can say. He may not die; I'm not sure." The room seemed to be constricting the Exorcists, pushing them closer together. A man with hair like fire and a heart of embers wondered out loud, "So there is a chance…" Again, that metallic, katana blade sound; "A chance. But a slim chance. I can't promise anything."

Snow white hair swung into blue eyes as another Exorcist looked down at his feet in deep thought. It didn't seem quite right that this death was protracted, prolonged. It was like fate was playing with them, batting them around before dealing the blow that would crush their hearts and their resolves. For what is more shattering than realizing that even the strongest of you can be defeated by something so simple as a date in time? His heart hammered as his soul tried to piece itself back together. Hope was finding holes in the clouds of his doubt, but it was having a hard time. But he must hope. He has to.

"Save him." Eyes made of doves' wings and tears that have finally been shed look up to meet cold, hard rock gazes. This battle of stares went on for a long while, before the feather of doves and the essence of sadness seemed to spill out of the Exorcist, trailing down his face in records of his melancholy that would last so long.

"Please. You have to."

There was more silence. Another voice, this one feathered as wings are, and gentle as a wind stroke breezily stated in a wavering tone, "If there is a way…" Fluffy gray clouds shake atop a head of wisdom, covering eyes bespectacled. His eyes are a deep, cloudy gray of age and understanding, but of great sadness and capacity for beauty through hurt. "If there is a way…to save the man I consider a son…"

Again, that sharp, synthetic sounding voice, so cold and veiled. "I can't promise anything."

Now, an Exorcist whose eyes were lost, but sight was replaced, speaks. His voice grumbles low and pensively, a thunder that is missing the lightning that once accompanied it. The voice is whole, but empty. There is a missing chapter of this book, an unwritten chapter that is waiting for a pen to write it down. It cannot end in this way, with the chapter left in the air, and the page as a blank slate. This is not right.

"When did you know? How do you know? Why will you try?" So many questions, all with teeth that could easily dig in all of their consciousnesses and eat their hearts in a million different ways.

"The files told me everything, as well as Zhu, whom I have questioned thoroughly. I had my suspicions. You want me to try, don't you? Is that not reason enough?" Though the words are meant to be a confirmation and a comfort, they come out unrefined and stark.

Allen looks to Lenalee, who is sitting next to him on the couch. Her purples eyes are downcast towards her feet as she thinks about her conversation with Kanda. What if that had been their last? There was so much to say yet left unsaid. Allen thinks this as well as he looks to Froi Tiedoll and Noise Marie, both former comrades of Kanda Yuu. Noise seems deeply troubled, though his craggy face shows nothing. Froi is serene, but he looks more preoccupied with something than as if he'd accepted this explanation or the imminent death of this loved one they all held dear despite the loved one's protestations. Lavi had his hand over his mouth as he thought, his headband removed out of respect and disbelief. The red-haired Bookman looked up to Eve and indignantly said, "Why hasn't Panda-jiji checked the records? Or even told us of this? He would know something like this. He-"

"The Bookmen concentrate on unwritten history, Junior Bookmen. You would do well to remember that. They record everything, yes, but he may have been bound by an oath to keep this information secret, or to at least bury it where no one could find it on a passing glance. It took me three days to find this information even after I was told about it," Eve interrupted in an abrupt voice. Her words sawed Lavi's argument short, causing him to slap his trap shut.

Allen took this brief interlude to put forth his own opinions. "Do you know how he'll die? Can you stop it, or at least get rid of the pain?" Eve leaned against a wall with her fingers pressed against her forehead as if she were explaining everything to an idiot.

"Yes. Maybe. And no. The pain with falling apart isn't something you can just pop a pill for. Several Parasitic Innocence-type Exorcists found this out the hard way. You get ripped apart cell by cell. In Kanda's case, it might be a little quicker or even a little slower. Can't really tell, honestly, until I get some definitive test results back. So far I've got nil." She looked up to see Noise Marie standing up. He looked pensively at her, or in her general direction. Eve stared back, completely unfazed by the usually unnerving stare of one who was blind.

"Are you going to tell him anything about all of what you are doing?" he asked in a deep growl. Eve closed her eyes and said, "Yes. Yes, I am. I'll keep him updated about everything. You won't have to worry about that, trust me." Marie looked skeptical, but sat back down. Froi was still lost in his thoughts, his eyes staring down at the floor.

Eve ran a hand through her short, dark hair. Her eyes scanned the Exorcists, looking at the chinks in their armor and the fire that was dying in their hearts. They were slowly losing hope for the samurai, she knew that much. It wasn't surprising. Many Exorcists who encountered this type of deterioration ended up alone due to their friends' fear of the pain of loss.

But, as Eve had suspected, this wasn't just any normal case. Kanda had an expiration date, and it seemed like there was no way to get around it at all. Hope was a dismal blink in his future. It was all they had to cling to. There didn't seem to evidence that he'd make it out of this alive. Eve wasn't about to give up just because of what a file stated, however. She needed to find this cure for him, more than they knew.

"If you want, you can go and visit him right now, if he's there. I don't honestly care, I just want you the hell out of my office."

* * *

Kanda was inside of the bathroom, staring down at his hands. Two of his fingers were bandaged, the nails covered with gauze. He shuddered as he remembered biting his finger in thought, and one of his fingernails completely coming off in his mouth. It had been both disgusting and disturbing. His hands were now a reminder that he was steadily falling apart.

His eyes were still dark, but underneath them, the rings grew darker and heavier. Wearily, he rubbed them with the palm of one hand. Sleep didn't come easily either. He was still off of the pain and sleep meds, and he wasn't going let them get at him with a needle either. He'd come to fear the little pinpricking things, shying away from them when he could. Akuma he could handle. Nurses…nurses were a different story completely.

Eve's gentleness had abruptly come to a halt the day after he was told the news about his supposed deadline. She'd hardened her heart towards him, going so far as doing watchdog duty at his door to make sure he didn't try to sneak off to train. He'd been getting 'flabby' lately, his muscles sore from the lack of exercise he was receiving. Eve had the hypodermic needles, though, and that made all the difference. Getting out of his room was akin to escaping a high security prison laden with dogs, snipers, Crows from the Vatican, and a dragon to boot. Kanda would bet anything that if Eve was an Exorcist, they would be winning the war a lot faster than they were.

The tiles under his feet were cold, and he was glad to be feeling something other than an ache. There was just too much pain lately. He'd never had to go through this much suffering before…well, except maybe that time Lavi accidentally food poisoned him. That had been hell on earth. Perhaps falling apart wasn't quite so bad. At least he wasn't throwing up every ten minutes any more.

Still, he wasn't doing good, not by any means. He walked out of the bathroom, coughing into his hand. Little flecks of blood appeared, and he wiped them off on the hospital scrubs he'd beaten out of a male nurse. He refused to wear the ridiculous hospital gown. If he was going to die, and that could happen at any minute, he would do it in a way that would keep people from laughing at his funeral. There was no chance that he'd be caught dead (literally) in a ducky gown.

As he walked down to the cafeteria, he noticed that a bunch of Exorcists were exiting Eve's office. Allen, Lenalee, Lavi, General Tiedoll, and Marie were all striding out. None of them looked happy. In fact, Lenalee's eyes were red, Allen looked vaguely lost, and Lavi's usually stupid grin was misplaced somewhere. Marie and Tiedoll hid their emotions well, but Kanda knew them in such a way that the littlest twitch made it obvious that both were either holding back tears, or trying hard not to lean against a wall and smash their head into it.

Kanda stopped in the middle of the hall, his feet steadily adhering to the tile from the cold. He didn't know exactly what to do. They should have heard the news, that he was dying and there didn't seem to be a way to stop it. Did he want them to see him this way? Did he want them to remember him in his last days as a weak, dissipating ghost? Or did he want them to comfort him? Was he really that selfish to want them to suffer at the expense of his own feelings? He didn't even have feelings to begin with. Why should he care? He was vacillating still when Lenalee noticed him.

Lenalee's violet-eyed gaze locked on to his darker colored orbs, and she ran towards him wordlessly. She flung her arms around his neck, causing him to dangerously tip over. He righted themselves, awkwardly standing there. He could feel something wet drip down his neck, and he realized that Lenalee was sobbing. Her shoulders shook, and his heart broke over her. He'd never really felt anything for Lenalee, but now he was sad that she was sad. Was this what it was like to…care? He'd cared before, but it had been a mild, at-arm's-length sort of caring. This was deeper, more sentimental. Lenalee was like a sister to him, and it hurt him that she would be so broken up over what she thought was going to be his death.

He gently pried her off of his neck and held her out from him, looking her straight in the face. Her eyes were wide, but also puffy and bright red. Her nose was the same, and her shoulders were still shaking from the sobs racking her body. She looked slightly ashamed, and maybe worried. He sighed and said, "Stop sniffling over me. I'm not dead yet." Lenalee's lips curled in a slight smile at that comment, and she hiccupped slightly.

"B-but you're s-so weak now, and--"

"Sure, rub it in my face, why don't you?" Lenalee looked surprised by the gruff, though not angry, response.

"N-no! I hadn't m-meant it like that--" Lavi suddenly came over, his face still carrying a solemn weight, but the sadness had been masked for a time. He whined at Kanda.

"Yuu-chaaaan, you shouldn't be so mean to Lenalee-chan. She was just trying to be nice. Who knows, you might drop dead, and she wants at least one hug from you in a life time. It doesn't count if you're dead," he joked, but there was an undercurrent of wistfulness in his voice. Kanda scoffed at him and asked, "What, you'd rather have me be a pansy? I told you, I'm not dead yet. And I'm not going to die. Eve'll fix me. If anyone can, she'll do it, trust me. She's got the will of a dog holding a bone. I would've hated it if she were a Noah because she'd be damn hard to kill."

"Hey, you shouldn't be talking so disrespectful of the person taking care of you," Allen chastised, his usual reaction of berating Kanda on anything small kicking in. Sparks seemed to fly between them as they glared at one another. Froi sighed.

"They don't change, do they?" Marie smiled, having listened to the entire exchange.

"Boys will be boys, Taichou. I'm not surprised." Froi was glad that there was a semblance of normalcy still present. Marie listened as they entered a conversation with one another. By the sounds he was hearing, Lavi was standing close to Lenalee with his arm over her shoulder protectively. Allen was standing a bit of a ways off by them, though he was directly in Kanda's line of fire should he fight, which he suspected was completely intentional. They had begun bantering like always, though every now and then there would be a silence as they began to run out of things to say in the face of such a looming death. It was like the Reaper was standing right next to them all.

Marie put a hand to his ear, frowning. Froi noticed this and said, "What is it Marie?" Noise didn't say anything-- instead, he kept listening. Had that…actually happened? Had he heard correctly? His sense of hearing was acute, second to none. It had to be, for him to fight effectively. Surely enough, there it was again. It was subtle, almost imperceptible. It had even made Marie doubt it for a moment, but now he was sure he'd heard something.

The human heart is an amazing machine, pumping millions upon millions of times over a lifetime. It never takes a day off, and it has its own type of muscle to do the job of sending the life-force of the body on its way to delivering oxygen to cells. Four valves are comprised of the heart, and each one opens and shuts in a rhythm that is quite familiar.

But the human heart is prone to failure. It can fall out of rhythm, causing the flow of blood to become erratic and ineffective. The valves can shred, and the arteries supplying the heart with blood could clog. Arteries could collapse, or the atriums could tear. All in all, the human heart is far from infallible, and so was Kanda's.

What Marie had heard was the uneven opening and closing of a valve. For a split second, the cells had received a meltdown signal, and stopped completely. Another split second later, they 'rebooted', beginning again, but at a different tempo from the rest of the heart. His blood was running at an uneven pace now, lopsidedly running along through his body. The opening and closing of his heart wasn't in sync any longer, and it was nearly inaudible unless you were adept at hearing heartbeats, especially those of your teammates. And Marie had listened to Kanda's heartbeat for years, keeping track of it as they fought alongside each other on the battlefield. What scared Marie the most was when that beating would finally come to a halt.

The large Exorcist walked towards Kanda with a gentle hand outstretched, ready to push him down to a bench, but Kanda was way ahead of him. He'd stopped talking, and he was holding up a hand for silence. One hand was pressed to his chest lightly, and he looked confused. Stiffly, he sat down in the nearest chair.

"Kanda…Kanda, are you all right?" Lenalee asked. Marie stood near him, keeping an ear out for any more murmurs. His heart seemed to have regained a sort of rhythm, but that uneven syncopation was still there, underlying the regular _ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump. _

"Just…winded, I guess. You guys wear me out, no wonder," he grumbled, trying to keep the mood light. He didn't want them to end up worrying about him. They were worried as it was. No need to add to it. It annoyed him greatly that they'd even think about worrying. He put a hand against his chest for a moment out of instinct and took a deep breath. He gasped ever so slightly as his breath caught in his throat.

Marie suddenly sprang into action, taking Kanda by the arm. He calmly turned to Allen and ordered, "Get a doctor." His terse words held thousands of unspoken emotions, urgency coloring his words dark and sober. Allen ran off in a flash, disappearing faster than thought. Marie knelt down to Kanda's level and asked him, "How are you feeling? Are you still out of breath? Does your chest hurt?" Kanda looked at Marie with a slightly dazed look and stuttered, "S-sort of. I'm…lightheaded. I feel like I can't breathe right. I've been…been doing this for a--" Marie stopped Kanda's explanation with an upraised hand.

"Stop talking. You'll wear yourself out. Listen to me closely. Stay still and don't move around so much. Take it easy until we get a doctor here," Marie ordered. Kanda, unused to taking orders, looked suspiciously at his friend and nodded. Catching himself, he said, "Yeah…I'll do that."

Lavi leaned over to ask Marie, "What's going on? Why did he have to sit? What's wrong with him?" Marie stared off past Lavi, though he was still looking in his general direction. He answered, "A heart murmur. Kanda's heart stuttered a little bit. It's a precursor to a heart attack." Kanda's face went pale as he listened to Marie's verdict. Suddenly, he gripped his left arm. Marie heard it and whipped his head towards Kanda.

"What is it, Kanda?" Marie asked in his low growl. Kanda stared at the floor without answering. He closed his eyes and muttered something.

"What is it, Kanda?" Marie asked again, this time his tone becoming more annoyed than worried. Kanda stared straight at him and answered, "Nothing." Marie could hear the lie easily. His heart had stuttered again, and his left arm must hurt or have gone numb.

"What'd the idiot do now?" Allen walked down the hall with the caustic Eve, who was looking through a checklist on a clipboard. Her pockets clinked as she walked, them being filled with drugs and other things she'd need when visiting other patients.

"Heart murmur," Marie answered. Eve's eyes cut across to him sharply. Her eyes narrowed and she asked suspiciously, "When?"

"Exactly a minute or so ago….correction, make that five seconds." And, five seconds before hand, Kanda had leant over slightly for a moment. Allen had noticed it, and sat next to Kanda. He placed a hand on his shoulder, a worried expression filling his face. Kanda scowled at him and shook the hand off. What was it to him? It was none of his business. Suddenly, Kanda was reminded of his incredibly precarious position of being in the category of 'living.'

There was a notable stop in his heart for all of three seconds.

It may not have seemed like much, but for Marie, who could hear the absence of the regular beat, and for Kanda, who could feel it, the stop seemed to stretch on for a long time. Marie's face darkened as did Kanda's, and Eve read their faces well. She had seen such looks on the visages of comrades realizing something dreadful. That, namely, a friend was going to die.

She knelt next to Kanda and pulled out her stethoscope. She closed her dark eyes for a moment as she listened to Kanda's heartbeat. Kanda noted that the metal was cold even through the shirt. Eve's eyes snapped open, and Kanda nearly jumped. He hated to admit it, but the woman scared him, if just a little bit. She stood up and hauled him off of his feet. Unexpectedly, she drug him through the hall, his friends close behind shouting questions.

Kanda tried to keep up, but he couldn't seem to get his legs to work the way he wanted them to. Finally, she pulled him into a room and closed the door, locking it. Everyone was on the outside, and the only people in the locked room were Eve and himself.

"I had to lock them out. I didn't want them to interfere. They probably won't like what I'm about to do," she stated, walking over to a strange machine. It buzzed expectantly, and Kanda realized what she was going to do.

"You want to shock it back into rhythm," Kanda stated in realization. Eve gave him a smirk and said, "You think you're so smart, don't you? Good guess." She suddenly pointed a strange looking gun at him and fired. He didn't even have time to shout as he felt a shuddering pulse go straight through him, from the roots of his hair straight to his toes. He crumpled to the floor.

What…why had she shot him? Why was the room spinning? Was he going to die now? He searched for blood on his clothes, but he found none. He couldn't feel anything. He felt numb. Was this what it was like to die? Perhaps he really had been a useless case. Maybe there was no reason to keep him alive. Once they found out his heart was failing, they probably thought that that was that. They got rid of him. He looked up, and he could see Eve standing over him, holding the gun. For some reason, it had a long string of…well, something trailing from the end.

She raised her eyebrows at him. Deciding that if he was going to die, he might as well leave a parting word. He raised a hand to her and lifted his middle finger. She only smiled at him. Was that all the bitch was going to do?! Smile and laugh at him as he lay dying at her feet. Anger coursed through him, and he managed to bring one foot all the way behind her ankle. He jerked it back hard and fast, bringing her down. She yelled out a curse as she fell.

Kanda lay down and waited for the end. He never thought that it'd end like this. And he knew that doctor was sadistic. You should never trust a doctor like that. He closed his eyes and continued to breath, expecting every exhalation to end up his last. He'd never thought he'd wait for death. In fact, he wished that death would hurry the hell up. His arms and legs were hurting--

His arms and legs hurt.

Kanda opened his eyes again. Experimentally, he drummed his fingers against the floor. He could feel the wood beneath his fingers, and the movement sent jolts up his arm. Before, he'd been completely numb through out all of his limbs. That had been one of the few factors that had caused him to believe he'd been dying.

So if he wasn't dying…what the hell happened?!

"You _idiot!! _You made me crush the stupid thing. And I worked five years to get it to grow like that…" Eve was sitting up, dirt all over her white coat. She was brushing off crumbs of it, and a broken pot with what looked like a very flat bonsai tree lay behind her. She huffed at him, getting up finally. She walked over to him and kicked his ankle.

"Hey, wake up. If you can stand up, good. If you can't, then you're just a wuss." Kanda glared up at her. He worked his jaw a little bit with his hand, and he stood up. Suddenly, his knee gave out as his lower leg detached itself. They both stared at it with a look of mild distaste.

"One of the wonders of working with you stupid Exorcists. I get to watch you lose your limbs one by one, and that look never changes," Eve muttered. Kanda picked up the leg and hefted it. He sighed. He was going have to get it reattached. Reattachment wasn't his idea of a walk in the park.

Suddenly, the door was pounded down, and Allen and company stood nervously in the doorway. They looked around with suspicious eyes. Seeing that Kanda was still in one piece and nowhere near immediate death, they relaxed slightly though they still kept an anxious stance. Eve rolled her eyes and stated nonchalantly, "I only shot him. He should be fine now."

"Shot him?!" Lenalee squeaked. Kanda gave a scoff and said, "I thought she was going to kill me." Eve gave him a glare and said, "It was to jolt his heart into rhythm. One of these stupid little static shock machines would do nothing to him. His body's too tough for that, even under these trying circumstances." She shook her head and said, "You worry too much, honestly. I wouldn't have killed him."

"I think we have cause to worry," Allen sharply pointed out with a dangerous stare. Link was behind him, scribbling in his notebook, though it was obvious where his attention was. The watcher had, of late, become a little more apprehensive after Eve's little outburst not too long before.

Eve didn't seem to even recognize him as she waved them off. "Go on, give him room. I've got to reattach this idiot's leg--"

"Hey! That wouldn't have happened if you'd have warned me about--"

"If I had warned you, your heart would've given out completely."

Kanda glared nevertheless with a quality that could wither flowers. Eve returned it with a fiery gaze of her own. They continued to stare before Lavi gave out a rather girlish scream.

"K-k-kandaaaa!!! Your leg, you're holding it in your hand! That's not natural!" he freaked, pointing at the detached limb in Kanda's hand. The samurai hefted it onto his shoulder as if it were a gruesome baseball bat. His eye twitched. This was the reason he liked to be alone-- especially if he was going to die. It was a messy business-- no use if you were going to scream because it was disgusting. That Lavi was such a pansy. Kanda wished he could hit Lavi in the head with is dismembered leg, but it'd probably fall apart worse than it already was. He looked expectantly at Eve as Lenalee and Allen also began to freak. Luckily, Marie had no idea what was going on, so he basically didn't go into a spazz fit over it.

The woman rolled her eyes and shoved everyone out of the room. She hated reattaching limbs. Especially with an audience to gape. It was unsightly.

* * *

Kanda sat up in bed blearily. He could hear someone talking, but he wasn't sure who. He'd been sedated, partly against his will, when Eve had reattached his leg. It was usually a very painful process, and it helped if the subject wasn't fidgeting or rolling around on the surgical table. However, with Eve's revolutionary techniques, she'd managed to have it done in a little under an hour. And now, all he had to do was find out who was the idiot giving him the headache…

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty, I've got something to tell you!" Kanda cracked open one angry eye, his vision slightly blurry. Another thing he wasn't going to do, no matter how bad it got-- wear glasses. He straightened up and asked angrily, "I'm slowly falling apart. Can't you at least give me a decent night's sleep?" Lavi pouted.

"What, I'm not good enough to wake up to at four in the morning?"

"No. No, you're not," Kanda answered in a grumpy tone. Lavi whistled low and quickly said, "Fair enough! Well, I just wanted to say, I hope you had nice dreams." Kanda's eye twitched dangerously.

"That was it? That was your entire reason for waking me up at four in the morning? You're worse than a baby!" Kanda lunged for the redhead, but Lavi softly grabbed his arm and shushed him, suddenly looking around suspiciously. Kanda looked confused as he sat back in bed. What was with the rabbit? He became more and more frenetic by the day…

Lavi, however, had a lot on his mind, and the only way he could play it off was to annoy Kanda. It was an old habit, and even now with everything constantly changing, he couldn't just let go of that trait of himself. Even when he'd been a true Bookman, cold heart and everything, he'd found a way to annoy Kanda. In a way, it had been the first time Lavi had ever been a real… person. He didn't want to lose it now, but he knew that he would have to eventually. Bookman talked more and more about leaving the Order now that the Earl was missing or dead. Lavi was growing nervous about the temporariness of his stay here in the Black Order. It was the worse time for them to leave, with Kanda slowly degenerating towards frailty and ultimately death. And now this new information… Lavi shook his head and tried to get back on topic.

"You know your doctor?" Kanda gave a scornful scoff, though there might have been a hint of respect in it.

"Of course I do. If I didn't, there'd have to be something horribly wrong here," Kanda said. Not like there isn't a lot wrong already, he thought bitterly as one of his fingers intermittently went numb. They were doing that these days, too. Slowly, his nerves were failing, his sense of touch one of the first things to disappear out of sight. If Eve was right, he'd lose his sense of taste, then smell, then eyesight… Immediately he snapped out of it in case he fell into another bout of depression. It sucked when he did that, because he ended up smashing more coffee mugs than he could pay for.

Lavi seemed hesitant as he said, "Kanda… Eve Rothschild… she doesn't exist." Kanda blinked. Was his hearing deteriorating already?

"What do you mean, she doesn't exist?" he asked angrily. Of all the… what was that supposed to mean?! Lavi winced and shushed Kanda gently, making lowering gestures with his hands.

"I've looked her up on every database I had. I couldn't find anything on the woman. It's like she was never born, or never went to a school. All I found were files and forms leading to a man named Richard Rothschild and a bunch of other related relatives besides. Richard Rothschild was never married and he had no children, so don't give me that look," Lavi warned, pointing a stern finger at Kanda. The samurai shook his head, the dim lighting in the room causing his head to hurt worse. There was only a single, dim lamp on the bedside which Lavi had turned on.

"What else did you find, then? And why were you looking her up?" Kanda asked wearily, sighing heavily. He was trying not to be angry, something he'd decided to do a while ago. Everyone had looked at him strangely whenever he'd quit shouting and giving scathing remarks. However, it didn't seem to be having a negative effect on anyone… well, except for himself.

Lavi answered deftly, "All I know is that Richard Rothschild was a scientist working on a project for the Vatican. It may just be a coincidence. But everywhere I looked, I couldn't find her. She has no birth certificate, she has no records, and there aren't even any doctor's visitations I can look at. No one is never sick. Except for you-- oh… I'm sorry, I hadn't, er--" Kanda waved off the slip. It had been true, Kanda had never had a visit to the doctor, but that was besides the point now. Especially now.

"You didn't answer my other question," Kanda said gruffly. Lavi seemed to straighten up in his chair, and his eyes darted left and right, anywhere but at Kanda's face. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he stuttered, "I-I-I, well, I was just… erm, you know you were sick and all and… I was… worried. About you." Lavi's statement brought on confusion. He was… worried. He had people worried about him. He really did.

"You were worried about me. Why look up my doctor?" Kanda asked. Despite having quite the intellect, on some things Kanda was just slow. Lavi smiled in disbelief and said, "Kanda, you deserve the best of the best. Nothing less would be insulting." Kanda was slightly taken aback. He'd never thought about it that way. Lavi stood up and said, "I just wanted you to… to know that I couldn't find Eve anywhere. I was wondering if you wanted to know about it and decided to just tell you. You might want to ask her later."

Lavi lingered in the doorway, looking back at Kanda. The man was staring at his lap, his brow furrowed as he lost himself in deep thought. Lavi wanted to stay. He wanted to talk with Kanda about things he'd never thought to bring up. He wanted to tell him how scared he was for him, but now wasn't the best time. There were too many things he'd never said to the man to his face…

However, the moment was crushed in the palm of Fate's hand as Eve suddenly appeared. Her sharp countenance and decided expression showed she wasn't happy this early in the morning. She glared at Lavi with a piercing stare and said, "Don't you have anything better to do than keep sick people up at all hours?" The air around her seemed like it was starting to freeze. Lavi almost felt his teeth start chattering.

"N-no. I mean, yes. I mean, I'd, uh, better go!" With that, the Bookman scurried out into the hall, the feeling of eyes boring holes in his back following him the whole way. Eve suddenly let out a small cough, covering it up with a handkerchief from her pocket. She closed Kanda's door, but not before catching his look. Her eyes narrowed at the strange expression he'd given her.

"What?" she asked tersely. Kanda seemed to snap out of it and revert back to his normal, belligerent self.

"Che," he scoffed loudly, not even bothering to give her a glare as he flopped on the bed. She lowered her eyebrows threateningly over her eyes and said, "That's what I thought."

The door shut with a loud bang. Lavi winced as he walked her walk away, and came out of his hiding place. It was time he did some snooping around in more private places than the public records.

* * *

**Doctor Yok: **I would like to thank all you reviewers and people who stuck with the story, despite its blatant gush and mush and all out crap. I would also like to announce I am continuing Wandhorn Rising for any of you who thought that story was dead to the world.

Thanks to Katsura Hoshino for giving me a bit of inspiration.

And thanks to Olivia: just because.

Remember, predict, rant, write, flame, all that good stuff. All you have to do is click the little 'Review' button below.


	6. Past

**Doctor Yok**: All right, all right. I know. Outrage. It's been about a month.

Angry Reader: What are you talking about?! It's been two!!

**Doctor Yok: **Fine, be snippy about it... Yeah, it's been about two months since my last chapter. Well, end of the year is always crazy for me, and also I've been slacking... A lot. However! I have this new chapter for you, and it is scary long. Yes, _scary _long, not just long. So enjoy this next chapter. I hope to be out with the next one soon. Hopefully. Yeah... Ugh, I need some Nutella and a Sudafed...

And don't forget, if I owned DGM, I'd be stuffing Kanda in a dress. AND he'd have to dance the Macarena.

**Kanda: **_*eye twitches*_ But, of course, you don't. So... _*Pulls out Mugen*_

**Doctor Yok: **Um... Yeah, I'm, er, going to leave before I, uh, get turned into a disecting specimen for Kanda's one-man biology class... And don't forget to review! _*stabbed*_ AAGH! Blech. _*dies*_

**Kanda: **Che. Weakling.

* * *

The lights were bright and harsh. They shone down on everything, revealing every flaw in all its detestable nakedness. The tiles and walls were sterile white, and you couldn't imagine a living thing prospering in this room. All of it was blank, like the world before it had ever begun. Was it better that way?

There is a metal table in the middle of the room. Windows glare down at it from above, breaking the white with their black exteriors. Their stare is directed to the small thing on the table. This small thing is covered in a blanket, and there doesn't seem to be any life in it. The white blanket hides everything, from head to toe. But the body is vaguely teenaged-shaped, with a humanoid head and limbs. It doesn't move. The white is stained by small dots of red intermittently strung about. It is spreading steadily, a virus that ambitiously attempts to cover the entire sheet.

Behind the angry glass, scientists shake their heads in disappointment. They'd thought they'd had it down this time. It had gotten so far. Yet, every time, it failed miserably in a giant mess. Why did it always happen around this stage? Richard Rothschild shook his head. This one had been promising. It could have gone so well, had it survived. They'd have to throw out this one as well. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. The other scientists avoided the dissatisfied Richard. He was muttering under his breath about something.

Suddenly, something under the sheet twitched. First it was hand. Next, it was a foot. A scientist took the moment to look inside of the sterile room, and shouted something promising. All the others hurried cautiously up to the window as well, wondering if this was all just some sort of misunderstanding. They'd watched it fall apart. How could this be?

The sheet was lifted off, and the face of a young, fifteen year old girl was shown, though blood seeped out her ears and eyes. Her mouth was red from blood as well, her short dark hair splattered. Her breathing was rapid and arrhythmic, but she was alive. Several nurses hurried inside of the room towards her, taking off the sheet. She sat up, holding her chest.

How was she alive? She could feel herself die. It had been there, that stinging feeling as the needle slipped under her skin, and she was given her dose of genetic wonders. Every tortured rejection as each organ finally gave up on the drug that had coursed through her. She had lost herself for a full five minutes. What had happened? Why was she here when everyone else had failed? Her hand strayed to her hair, pushing it back.

Richard Rothschild came down, his smile a healthy white as he looked over the experiment. He nodded to her approvingly, though it was more like the look of one who was proud of owning a new art piece or car than actual affection. Nevertheless, the feeling was welcome to the girl, and she gave him a tired smile. Her skin felt cold as she rubbed her arms.

"You did good, GE4977. You have done well," the scientists said, clapping his hands over GE4977's shoulders. Her bare skin was under his hands, and he marveled at the thing he'd been able to create, merely from strips of DNA. It had been easier than expected, definitely. His thumb lingered over the bar code over her shoulder, though, and his look suddenly sobered.

"You have done very well," he whispered quietly, more to himself than to anyone in particular. GE4977 put a hand over Rothschild's and said, "I am only doing well because you have done well, Professor." He gave her another smile, his white beard bristling slightly as his light blue eyes crinkled at the edges. The older man gave a hearty chuckle and said, "You are a witty one, I'll give you that. Ah, I wonder if wits are something that can be inherited…"

This was what the Vatican didn't understand. There was so much to be had from gene experimentation! So far, there were only five experiments, each one in a varying stage of development, but the two teenagers hadn't survived the last time. This one, though…. This one showed promise.

At least, she did until he saw the blood seeping from underneath her fingernails. His face took on a look of disgust as he suddenly whirled around and walked away. No, this one didn't show promise at all! This one was just like all the others…

As he left the room, the sounds of screaming could be heard. Blood splattered on the window, and that was that. Up above, a young girl watched the chaos as attendants tried to hold down a thrashing and bleeding test subject. Her eyes were dulled to the point of disinterest, and she was too jaded to be affected by the sudden death of a fellow human. She could only touch the window as her caretaker stepped forwards toward her and said, "Come. It's time to leave. You can watch tomorrow."

The child nodded. She turned to stare into his eyes. "Of course, Dr. Rothschild."

"Good girl. Tomorrow you can meet her. Tomorrow, you will see her for the first time." The girl suddenly smiled.

"Really? Will she be like my older sister? Will she?" she asked delightedly. Rothschild smiled sadly down on the girl and said, "Yes. Exactly like your older sister." Besides, they needed a replacement experiment since this one went so horribly wrong. It always happened like that, beginning with the bleeding under the fingernails. There had to be a way to stop this… Rothschild walked over to his desk by the window and looked at a picture. There stood, inside, a very young child with an older version of her standing protectively behind her.

The little girl joined him. "We will see her again, won't we?"

"Yes, dear. We will. We will see her very soon."

* * *

In the beginning, there was nothing. Everything was a confusing, black mass. Form and shape hadn't been created yet, and all that was real was the turmoil. For a long time, Genetic Experiment 4831 had had this feeling for so long that it had accepted this as the way of the universe, and that things would stay this way. But today, it was going to feel something different. It was going to experience sound. Something reached its ears (it had ears?), and it was reverting itself into something it didn't understand quite completely. It was producing… words. Noises. There were noises somewhere in this blackness. There was a form.

"Why isn't she moving?"

"She's sleeping. You must be patient."

"But I want her to wake up now!"

"You want your sister don't you?! Be patient! Or else the process won't be complete. I'm not going to do this again. This is the last one."

Who were these voices? Where were they coming from? It didn't make any sense at all. Vaguely, Genetic Experiment 4831 turned… something. What was this? It could feel that it had appendages. What were appendages? No matter, it moved something of form. In fact, it was beginning to experience sensations that it had never even dreamed of before. Hands pressed to glass.

"Dr. Rothschild…."

Now, a head. A head was pressed against glass as well, moving through thick, viscous liquid to reach it. The hard substance was a strangeness in this soft world made of liquid.

"Dr. Rothschild, this one's moving. This one is moving!"

With a head to the glass, it was easier to catch noises, those strange things. Flutteringly, her eyelids opened hesitantly, a new butterfly that wasn't quite sure how to open its wings. Piercing brown stared through the liquid. There was… sight. Sight. What was this strange feeling? All of this was new. She wanted to run. She wanted to move! Her hands beat on the glass for a moment like a bird smashing into a window.

"Sedate her! Before she breaks the glass! This is a lively one, I'll give you that much." There was a hissing noise, and she raised her head slowly to look above her. Something was dripping down into the tank with her. Panic invaded her mind. She didn't want to go back to sleep. She didn't want to go back to that blackness! She had found life! They were trying to kill her!!

Frantically, she kicked the glass with her foot (she had a foot?), and long hair became trapped around her ankle. She moved thickly, fighting off unconsciousness. A fist connected with the glass, splintering it. Through the liquid, she could make the outlines of things that looked liked herself, if she ever saw herself that was.

Outside of the incubation tank, scientists milled around to gape at this newest experiment. The doctor had taken a big risk by putting her in for so long. The girl was nearly a teenager here, and bore a striking resemblance to the doctor's late ward, as well as the little girl currently with Rothschild at the moment. Rothschild only stared in amazement as GE4831 beat at the glass, more lively than any of the other experiments had been. He smiled. He knew this was his crowning achievement. However, the other attendants weren't as joyous. She was cracking the thin glass of her incubational prison. Soon, she'd spill out before she was ready, destroying herself before she got a breath of life.

They didn't get a chance to repair the broken incubation tank, however, as the thin glass splintered into more pieces, and cracks spidered out of control. People pulled back Rothschild and the little girl accompanying them out of the way of the long, cylindrical tank full of pseudo-amniotic fluid.

And, just like that, the glass gave out.

There was a loud rush as it all came out. Pink, white, and clear fluid dotted the floor as the experiment slid across the tile. The scientists shouted and cursed in surprise as the fluids leaked up to their shoes and pant legs. Rothschild could only stare as GE4831 shakily moved, flopping on the floor like a baby. She was trying to get up, but in the process she was getting tangled in her long, flowing hair. It covered her like a garment, hiding her nakedness.

"Well, what are you waiting for?! Help her!!" he bellowed out to the other attendants, who scurried to do as he asked. No one disobeyed the doctor. That was just asking to get fired. They all gripped her arms gently in case the bones were brittle. They didn't want to snap this experiment. They could tell that the doctor thought she was special. Regardless if she was or not, they had to treat her that way. Her muscles were atrophied from such a long period of time in the incubation tank. She was breathing with a rasp, amniotic fluid still in her mouth. She suddenly threw up all the contents of her stomach, all of it liquid.

The attendants winced and held her out. She was slimy, gross, and naked. How could anyone find beauty in this line of work? Rothschild, apparently, did. He looked her over as if he would a prize thoroughbred. He nodded accordingly, giving small noises of acceptance as he walked around the experiment. An attendant walked up to him and said, "Sir, she came out too early. We need to put her back in, or else she won't completely grow right. Her body's not--"

Rothschild shook his head and said, "No, I think we'll leave her out. This one's vivacious enough that she doesn't need the tank. Clean her up and get some clothes on her. Come on, MOVE!" The attendants scrambled around to do as he asked. The little girl with him walked over to the doctor and tugged on his sleeve.

"You did a good job," she whispered. Her eyes followed the girl out of the room. She gave a small, wry smile and nodded. Dr. Rothschild gave the girl an appraising look and said, "Anything, dear, for you. Perhaps now we can find a way to fix your condition. Create a new body for you. I hear there is something called the Second Exorcist program that is doing just that."

Arm in arm, the two walked out of the room. The girl nodded.

"Is that so?"

* * *

GE4837 opened her eyes for the first time in hours. Her body felt strange, uncomfortable. It was as if she was having to get used to being inside of skin and bone. She stretched out a hand, looking up at it as a ring of light encircled it from above. The rest of the room was dark, unclear. She couldn't see well, but that wasn't something she wasn't already used to. GE4873 sat up slowly, but she soon had to stop as she wore herself out. The experiment's hair sat under her, uncut and elongated to an unnatural length.

GE 4837 took a deep breathe, looking around. Her surroundings were bland. She was on a table that was hard and made of a material that was unyielding and cold to the touch. She was covered in something that was thin and crinkled in her fists if she grabbed it. It was weak, and tore easily. There was a light coming from above, but she didn't know where, exactly, it was coming from. The room was bare, and the floor was made of pieces of square that was also hard. She leaned over to put a hand on the floor, and she fell off of the table with a surprised sound.

"Oh!" she shouted, putting out her hands to stop her fall. It hurt her as she tried to get up. She'd been born into a world full of pain and uncomfortable places, it seemed. Her brown eyes glared at the floor as if it were the cause of her current misery. Suddenly, she was helped up by a small girl with a thin face, big brown eyes, a small upturned nose, and straight brown hair. The little girl smiled at her as she helped her sit. GE4837 only stared at the girl uncertainly as she sat on the floor. The experiment swallowed nervously as if she were being interrogated.

"Would you like some water?"

The voice startled her, and she nearly fell over again. Her hands were shaking slightly. The experiment nodded in a hesitant manner, not really sure if the girl was sincere or not. The little girl walked over to the sink inside of the room and ran the tap. She brought out a cup from another cabinet. The girl had to stand on tiptoe to actually reach the water, and the experiment got up and helped her.

The little girl looked up at the experiment with surprise at her strength. They'd created this one… special. Usually, after a few months from birth, the experiments tended to be incredibly weak and brittle, like a bone left to dry in the sun. This one was stronger, better. She smiled up at the experiment, who in turn attempted a smile, but failed.

The little girl got the water from the tap and gave the glass to GE 4837. The experiment snatched the glass of water out of her hand and chugged the entire thing down in three large gulps. Most of it went down the front of her surgical gown, but for the most part she got her drink. The little girl watched her with a fascinated look. What had Rothschild done this time? Why was this genetic experiment so much more different than the rest of them? This one had developed faster in the artificial womb, and only after a few days could already drink and stand as well as lift objects that were much heavier than just a few pounds.

It was obvious that this version was much, much better.

The little girl, wrapped up in her thoughts, almost didn't hear the experiment's next question. The child snapped out of it, looking at the genetic experiment with an expression of amazement.

"What was that?" The experiment's words were clumsy and ill formed, but they were recognizable and distinct.

"What…you…are…call?" she asked haltingly, her face screwing up into a picture of concentration. The little girl wanted to dance and clap. The experiment could actually speak as well! This was a glorious occasion! Only after week ten did experiments ever venture to speak or to try and convey their wants through words. This one had managed to pick up on it merely after three days of hibernation. Oh, what Rothschild had done! It was a beautiful, beautiful thing!

Finally, the little girl answered. "My name is Eve."

* * *

A woman of nearly twenty-five years of age lay in her bed. Her eyes were fixated on the ceiling, and it was impossible for her find rest. There didn't seem to be anything she could do about this sleeplessness, but laying here in bed didn't seem to be helping the matter. She turned her head towards her clock, and she read it blandly to herself, mouthing the words just to have something to do.

"Three twenty-two." She'd tried to begin sleeping at nine that night. She'd been laying here for the past six hours trying to fall asleep with no avail. It was useless, really. This had been happening for the past few nights. It was like her cases were coming back to haunt her. She'd probably stayed up so many nights working that her brain was now confused about what sleep actually was. Finally, the woman sat up wearily and stumbled into her quarter's kitchen area for a nice cup of tea.

As the kettle began to whistle, Eve nearly missed the sound of a knock on her door. She looked at it blandly, frowning deeply. She decided not to bother with it. She was putting the tea leaves in her cup of steaming water when the lock suddenly popped. Her cup was to her lips, and she was staring at the door intently when the security chain popped off as the door was kicked backwards. Lavi stood there with a triumphant look at the defeated door. It dejectedly lay on the floor, having failed at its one purpose.

The redhead looked up at the pajama-wearing woman standing calmly in the kitchen area, drinking tea, and expectantly staring at him. The Bookman sat down in a chair and said, "So, you aren't surprised?"

"When ever you don't put back all of the files you dig out of my desk and leave behind a note from Bookman to pick up a history book from the 17th century? No, I'm not." Lavi shrugged appreciatively. Suddenly his face fell slack, and his facial expression turned to horror.

"I was supposed to pick up a 17th century history book?!" Lavi screeched. Eve gave him a withering glare, and he shut his mouth with a loud snap. Eve went up to her door, picked it up with a sigh, and amazingly moved it back into place where it had once stood before being beaten down unceremoniously by the rambunctious Bookman.

"What are you here for?" she asked as she went to go look for a screwdriver. Lavi tapped his chin in thought and said, "Well, I only wanted to ask a few questions. I figured you probably wouldn't be awake right now, but I decided to come because you'd be so tired you'd answer any question I asked just to get out me out of here." Eve raised an eyebrow in apathetic disbelief.

"You were always planning on kicking in my door."

"Eh, I hoped you'd hear me knocking, but it was always an option," he said with a bright smile that seemed oddly out of place considering the godawful hour. Eve sat down across from him on the small couch, her cup set down on the coffee table. She crossed her arms in front of her and leaned back on the couch.

"All right, get on with this so I can get back to another sleepless night of staring at the ceiling," she muttered irritably. Lavi smiled and said, "Well, all right." Suddenly, his face turned serious as he became quiet for a moment. Eve studied him for a moment, how his eye patch was a bit skewed, and that his red hair was a bit more frazzled and out of place than usual. He looked tired despite his cheerful exterior, and Eve wondered what he'd been up to.

"When and where were you born, and what is your real name?" Eve's eyes widened momentarily as she was caught off guard by the question. She frowned at him angrily and said indignantly, "I was born in Lancaster, England on September 20th of 1845. My name is Eve Rothschild." Lavi looked contemplative, his gaze unwavering. Suddenly, he burst out with another question, putting out his hand as if in an offer.

"Okay, then, where did you live until you turned 19? Who were your parents?" he asked. Eve stayed quiet for a moment, her hands suddenly balled up in her lap. She shoved out of her mouth, "My parents were Margaret and Charles Rothschild. I lived in London, England until I was sixteen, when we moved to Newcastle, England." She wanted to know why he was suddenly interested in her and her past. This didn't make sense. She'd made sure all the documents were fairly authentic and could be traced back efficiently and easily to herself as the owner, if not creator. What did this have to do with anything?

"Why are you lying to me?" Lavi asked simply. Eve took in a deep breath of air so she could avoid being indicted for murder. This wasn't the time to suddenly lose control.

"What makes you think that I'm lying to you?" she asked calmly, though it was obvious that she was coming close to bursting into a ball full of rage and uncontrolled violence. Her hands were twitching now, as if they were waiting for the words that would free them so they could wrap themselves around Lavi's neck. Lavi did an irritating gesture of 'hmmm'ing extensively while rubbing his chin and looking up at the ceiling for a number of minutes. Eve was very close to deciding where she wanted to bury his body, and so far the dumpster outside the Tower was winning against the undersides of the docks.

"Well, considering you've never had a doctor's appointment, have no teachers or schooling certificates before the eighth grade, and that you've got an IQ of about 156, I can sort of guess that a lot of your life isn't very real at all," Lavi finally answered after an infuriatingly long period. The redhead stared at Eve as she began to contemplate how she was going to answer.

Lavi looked Eve over. She was almost unnaturally thin, and her face was thin and worn out from long hours and stress. Her hair was still thick and lustrous, but here and there lines of white were invading. Her brown eyes were starting to grow dull as her life went on, and cynicism set in. She looked unhealthy for a doctor, but she wasn't at all unattractive for it. In fact, she gave off a sort of 'thrown-down-too-many-times' aura that almost made her seem untouchable.

He knew that he was freaking her out, but he had to know the truth about her. He'd been up at all hours of the night, trying to research things on the woman, and he'd turned up with hardly anything to show for it. He was a Bookman, and trying to find information was his job. He was very good at what he did, and if he couldn't find it, it didn't exist. And according to the records system, Eve Rothschild didn't exist until she was nearly fifteen or sixteen years in age. What was it that she was hiding from him?

The woman continued to stare at him before saying in a tight voice, "I wasn't always Eve Rothschild."

Lavi smiled. "I figured that out, if you--"

"I was kidnapped when I was young. Abused. Raped. I don't like to remember it. I started over." Her answer was short, terse, and horrifically plausible. Lavi's eyes widened. Was… was this true? He was at a loss for words, and it came to him that she was getting up and leaving for her bedroom.

"E-eve! I'm sorry! I didn't me--" The door shut quietly. Lavi got up and walked over. He knocked on the door, listening for the usual sounds of sniffling or crying that accompanied many of these outbursts from women, but nothing could be heard. Lavi contemplated opening the door to the bedroom, but he knew that it was probably a bad idea considering the circumstances. Still, he couldn't hear anything. It didn't seem that Eve was upset-- probably just having a moment to herself so she could compose herself before she walked out again.

After a few minutes of nothing, Lavi decided to hell with it, and he opened the door. Eve was sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to him. The redheaded Exorcist crossed over to sit next to her. The woman's dark eyes were cast to the floor, and her hands were pressed between her knees. If there was anything scarier than a woman crying, it was expecting her to cry and her face was completely slack. Lavi wondered if he'd done something emotionally irreparable, and he said quietly, "Eve--"

"Don't… Lavi." Her words were halting, and they started and stopped like a jalopy of a car. Finally, she quietly said, "What's done is done."

Lavi looked pained and told her, "I didn't mean to… If I'd known that it was that painful I wouldn't have tried to pry." Eve didn't answer. Lavi was starting to get worried. What happens when he tells Kanda that he accidentally ruined his doctor and sent her into some sort of waking coma? However, his worries were nothing to be fretting over. Eve's small, bony hand wandered to his knee, and she didn't look up from the floor. Finally, she lifted her gaze at him, and what he saw scared him. They were completely devoid of anything, as if she were an empty husk of a person, and that all the fire and ice that had occupied her hardly minutes before had been scooped out to leave a shell.

"I'm fine, Lavi. Why did you even care?" Her question sounded flat, almost lifeless. There was only bland curiosity.

"I-I was worried about Kanda, and… I wanted to know that he was getting the best there was," he answered truthfully. "But once I realized… once I found out that there were so little records, I couldn't stop looking." Eve nodded at him. Abruptly, she climbed into the bed and lay on the opposite side from Lavi. He was left to stare at her back as she faced the opposite wall. This sudden shunning confused him. He wanted to reach over and assure her everything was fine, but he knew that, considering where they were and the positions they were in as victim and interrogator, it probably wouldn't be a hot idea.

Finally, he stood up and awkwardly left. He looked over his shoulder at Eve and said, "I guess I'll, uh… I'll see you later." Eve's eyes were closed as she answered, "Yeah. Whatever." Lavi frowned with a poignant look on his face before softly letting the door click shut behind him. He looked over at the empty kitchen and the lights that were on. He turned them off one by one, thinking about all that had occurred. This had turned out to be much, much more than he'd thought it'd become.

What worried him most wasn't the answer that she'd given him. It wasn't hard to believe, and it had been delivered perfectly. But an instinct, a gut feeling kept telling Lavi that it wasn't the whole truth. This wasn't the end of his search. There was more to find than just a doctor that had wanted to escape a horrible past of abuse and bad memories. Something much more was going on, and it was the reason behind her drive to fix Kanda. Doing something out of the goodness of her heart didn't seem much in character with a person like Eve who was obviously obsessive about her work and was more likely to do something for knowledge than the matter of helping.

Lavi left, leaving the door against the wall. Light spilled into the dark room, and his silhouette was stark against the white light of the hall. He looked over at the door to Eve's room again, and wondered if he should try to make amends. Seeing as that had failed utterly the last time, he decided that now wasn't the best time. He left quietly, mulling over his thoughts like a fine wine.

Inside of her room Eve opened her eyes again to look at the ceiling. She rolled over and sighed. She thought about how strange it was that she was here where she was now. She thought about how strange it was that the side effects of studying medicine was that you ended up saving people's lives. Most of all, she thought about the strange fact of how she had the feeling that even with the answer she gave Lavi, he'd never stop looking. Her answer would never be enough, not without proof. Proof that she didn't have, of course.

Because, obviously, it was all a lie. Eve's entire existence was a lie, even the life she'd had before the lie. Everything was fake, and she couldn't tell what was real unless it was pain and suffering, two things she understood well. Eve took a shuddering breath as she tried to sleep, but memories of strange things only half-remembered floated around in her brain, and they buzzed around so hard that it almost felt like her head was vibrating against the pillow. It was no use. She couldn't sleep.

"The truth… as if," she muttered, and she rolled over. Tomorrow would be another day. She'd torture Kanda then.

She was debating whether to stick Lavi into the landfill or the seaside docks when she finally managed to slip into a slow, restless sleep.

* * *

**Doctor Yok: **Wow.... this chapter really sucked, didn't it? There was no Kanda suffering at _all... _

**Kanda: **Hey!

**Eve: **Heh, nice one, Femme Face. Are you going to your emo corner now?

**Kanda: **That's as likely as you gaining a brain.

**Eve: **HEY! YOU WANNA GO?! HUH?

**Kanda:** BRING IT ON, YOU LITTLE MOTHER--

_*sounds of beatings and disgusting noises can be heard in the background*_ The next scene is so violent that we must replace it with a nice section from the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (copyright of Adams), " 'Life,' Marvin said, 'Don't you talk to me about _life._'" There, now wasn't that better?_ *drags bloody bodies off page in black trash bags*_


	7. Confession

Doctor Yok: Aaaaaand, here it is again! No, no, I didn't fall down a rabbit hole. Or get eaten by a dragon. Or stabbed by a spoon. Or massacred by a flying piece of fruit. However, I am aware that some of you probably wished one of these things had happened to me, considering my inactivity. However, I have managed to get off my lazy bum to finally write this.

* * *

Idly, Kanda ran his hands through his hair, noting the strands that fell off in his hands as he scrubbed his hair with soap. His eyes tightened as he stared at the wall of the shower, not wanting to see the mottled skin, bandages, or atrophied muscles. The Japanese man was sick of it all, sick of being sick. He couldn't stomach anything anymore, his nerves were shot, and he was seeing things. What had worried him most about this dying business was the toll it would take on his brain. He'd been afraid that his brain would turn to mush before the rest of him did. He didn't want to die a vegetable. He wanted to go out kicking and screaming, if possible. He wasn't the type to let himself go down without a fight.

All of these thoughts dragged his mood about as low as a wagon without wheels along a muddy track. He shook his head, wet hair sticking to his face. He placed his forehead against the ceramic tile. Suicide was all too tempting these days. Watching yourself deteriorate was not a pretty sight, and he had come dangerously close. If Allen had been standing there... He clenched a fist, but he refrained from smashing it into the wall. If he broke up his hand, that was just another thing to worry about. Not only that, but he didn't know if he could take watching Lenalee's eyes fill up with worry, or the bags under that stupid Rabbit's face get any darker. Allen seemed especially stressed for some reason, though he hadn't made light of it. Kanda swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes hardening into chips of onyx.

That day... What would've happened that day? He'd been standing on a balcony that was located on a portion of the Black Order headquarters that was closest to the cliffs. Ocean spray managed to leap up forty feet, bleaching the trees and causing the gulls to cry out. He'd been watching the sea waves roll over and over, contemplating things of an infinite nature. His eyes tightened as he thought about what was probably waiting for him when he finally kicked the can. Sure, he wouldn't die today, nor tomorrow, nor even in the next year, but one day all of his little ghosts would catch up to him. He didn't want to admit it, but he was scared. Kanda Yuu was scared to die. And he hated himself for it.

He'd never been the type to be scared of anything. Even fighting Skin Bolic, he hadn't been afraid to die. Everything had happened so fast, and he hadn't had time to reflect on the fact that he could possibly die. He hadn't thought that it might be an option, to die. All he knew was that he had to keep fighting until that Noah, that _thing _was dead. He wasn't focused on the aftermath, of the fact he was too tired and worn out to crawl to the portal, or the fact that everything around him was disintegrating. All he could think of was the fact that he was going to be gone in a few seconds, and that idiot Komui would throw up a big fuss. And what could his last words have been?

"Komui's gonna be depressed..."

He hadn't thought much of it after that. True, later Miranda had told him that she'd been worried when his time had disappeared. He hadn't thought much about that either. What did it matter to him anyways? That wasn't the present day. He'd conquered death.

Or so he thought.

And now, alone with his thoughts, he'd stared into the sea, thinking about how small he actually was in the face of this giant, magnificent body of water, how its power had crushed against the earth for millenia, and it would continue to do so after he and everything around him was dead and gone. What did his life matter? It was just another blip on the monitor. There really was nothing too special about it. What use was it to continue suffering if the end was so close he could touch it? It had made sense to him, then, to step on the balcony. He'd looked over into the ocean, thinking about how strangely inviting it looked. Those crashing waves, those gulls, the sounds of water rushing so fast up the side of the cliffs.

And then Allen had called him.

"Kanda, what are you doing?"

Kanda had turned around, looking with a surprised expression. Allen stood, tall and uncertain. He was gangly now, awkward almost. Kanda blinked several times before lying, "I, uh... I thought I saw something down there. Thought someone had fallen or something." He climbed back down stiffly, Allen standing by uncomfortably. Kanda knew that the white-haired man wanted to help him, but he had to show he was all right. As the moment of depression and contemplation passed him by, he put the event in the back of his mind.

"What was it you wanted anyways, Moyashi?" he asked gruffly. Allen had bristled like a porcupine at the old nickname, and he said, "My name's Allen. _Al-_len! Geez, I didn't think your brain would break down so soon." Suddenly, Allen's eyes widened as he realized what he'd just said. He started to stammer an apology, but Kanda waved it off and said,"Tch. Shut up. Might as well say something. It's enough to make a guy depressed, when he can't even be insulted about anything." He brushed past Allen roughly, and Allen followed him in a simmering anger. Though their 'truce' had held up, it was still tense between them. Somet things never changed.

"I need to tell you something," Allen finally said when they were in the hallway of the ward. Kanda looked back, seeing Allen standing there. His lank hair hung in his face, and his eyes were downcast. He pressed his lips together in a hard line as if something were bothering him. Kanda frowned. Allen didn't act like this often. Something was eating him up from the inside out, some bit of information that weighed on his mind. Kanda finally said, "Spit it out." Allen looked up, looking surprised at the sudden phrase.

Allen finally blurted out, "I, uh, I wondered if you... if you wanted a drink. With Lavi and I. Lavi... Lavi says he's got to tell you something, too." Kanda narrowed his eyes, knowing that this wasn't the piece of information he'd wanted to hear. However, he did have the idea that maybe he'd lay it all out on the table if he went with Lavi and Allen for a drink. He sighed as if annoyed and said, "Tell me, then, how I'm supposed to get past the fire-breathing dragon who happens to sleep in front of my door every night."

Of course, he was talking about Eve. She'd been keeping an eagle's eye on his switches between decline and progress. Every now and again, she nod at his charts and say softly, as if she didn't think he could hear, "Good. Very good." She'd lay the charts down softly, as if they'd turn to glass and shatter the minute they touched any hard surface. Eve would look at him with those intense, zeal-filled eyes and a smile would cross her face. She'd nod to him slowly, and then she'd leave. To be honest, it sort of creeped him out. No one knew what she did inside of that lab of hers, which was off-limits to just about everyone, or where she went on the days when she disappeared. Eve continued to stump Lavi and scare patients. Lately, however, she'd been giving Lavi an especially cold shoulder, simply 'forgetting' he existed unless she was forced to talk to him about something.

Allen smiled and said, "I think I might be able to find a way to get you out." Kanda had looked skeptical, but promptly left for his room, mulling over the frenzied thoughts going through his brain.

But now, here he was. He was alone with only himself and his musings about how close he'd come to dying on his own terms. It would've been so easy. He could've just leaned forwards into space and let himself fall, fall, fall, fall, fall... He reached for the knob of the shower without opening his eyes. He had been weak. He had contemplated taking his own life just because he couldn't handle what was happening at present. All of this depression was sickening, worse than the destruction of his body. His very core was being destroyed. The matter of the fact was he had come too close, and he had to focus on keeping himself from getting that close again.

Depression had always been a very 'me' centered disorder. Kanda had never been held in its thralls before. He had always been too preoccupied with killing Akuma, saving lives, that sort of thing. However, things were different now. He had nothing to do, and his mind wandered to topics he'd rather not touch. However, to everyone's surprise, he'd managed to find some way to occupy himself. There was a small garden box outside his window, and he tended to it every day. In it, a flora like no other had been spawned. It had grown into an impressive bush of green. Flowers had yet to make themselves known, but everyone had the feeling that today would be the day that they'd see a bud of color here and there. Some people even risked a stop by his room just to look at the vibrance living right outside the hospital wall.

The water dribbled to a stop, dripping a crystalline drop of water now and then. He stood there for a moment, thinking for a while about what it was Allen and Lavi had wanted to talk to him about. Lately, Lavi was antsy. Allen was preoccupied. Lenalee seemed to be also quite jittery, but not so much as those two. Noise and Froi visited every now and then to talk, but they could say nothing on the subject. Noise, who was usually quiet, had no say whatsoever. Froi cried too much to say anything vaguely coherent- well, at least, until about five minutes into his visit. After that, he just sniffles and they'd talk. It was never anything definite, either. Just... just random things. Froi would smile fondly at memories. Kanda would look off, his mind lost in his recently newfound contemplatings. But that was all. Froi, however, managed to sidestep any question Kanda brought up about the matter. He was cunningly decieving, and good at diversion. There was more to the old man than Kanda could ever see in his life time. He always managed to find a way to make him forget about whatever it was he was going to ask by prattling on about something until he was bored out of his mind.

Kanda turned on a heel to step out of the shower. And, again, the great samurai was brought down by something as small as a piece of soap that had managed to fall out of its dish and onto the shower's floor.

Kanda had about five seconds to comprehend he was no longer standing straight up. Those five seconds were passed by him making a series of different expression, first beginning with mild surprise to blatant frustration. His head made contact with the back of the shower, his leg manage to make a gruesome cracking noise, and his vision suddenly blurred. His arm flopped out shower, touching the floor. The cold tile at the bottom of the shower felt strangely sticky, and Kanda managed to blearily lift his head to see that his leg was bleeding from a large goose egg that was steadily growing in the middle of his shin. His vision blurred again, and he felt something strange under his head. His face was getting sticky...

Red came into his vision... and then black covered his eyes like a woolen hat, and he decided to call it quits for the night.

* * *

Eve sighed irritably, flicking the little time piece in her hand open again for the umpteenth time. She was leaning with her hand on her cheek, bored. She had finished as much as she could do that night before Ryan, her idiot of an intern, decided to be responsible and remove all forms of caffiene from her office. She was tired, now, after having gone nearly three hours with no coffee (or tablets for that matter). Withdrawal symptoms were being a bitch, and she couldn't stand the feeling that something was wrong. Eve had always had a very, very strong sense of intuition, and she'd come to trust it adamantly. It had saved the lives of many patients over her two years of doctoring the sick and impaired, and she wasn't about the abandon it now.

Unfortunately, her intuition wasn't always very definitive. She couldn't tell exactly what she was worried about. It was worrying on her nerves slowly, but surely. Eve stood up, the only light in her office coming from her desk lamp which emitted a very soft, warm glow of incandescent illumination. She walked over to her filing cabinet, eyeing the documents on top of it. Her eyes strayed to the picture of the little girl standing in front of a large group of scientists. What no one ever noticed was the background in which the picture was taken. The tile floor was made of checkerboard black and white, with an intermittent red tile. Behind them was a large, broken tank with jagged edges, but it was half hidden by the scientists, all of them looking somber in their white labcoats. Eve's eyes tightened as she stared at the little girl in the picture.

She turned away from the picture. Perhaps she should go and take a shower, get cleaned up, and get ready for bed. She didn't dare go to her apartment though. To do that was idiotic, at least after the message Link had given her. They knew where she worked, and they knew where she lived, but they didn't dare harm her where she worked- too many people were present, most of who were invalids. Here, she could find solace. Eve dug in her bag, finding a large T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. She held them up to her, noting how baggy and ratty they looked. They'd been college day memories long gone by.

With all of her necessities, she made her way to the bathrooms down the hall, and she took a short shower. In the mirror, she looked at herself. She frowned, noticing the bags under her eyes. Usually she was so superficial, but she thought that she looked especially sick underneath the harsh lighting of the bathroom. She pulled at her cheek, causing it to stretch out. She lifted an eyebrow at herself. Her hair was beginning to get long again. It was around her shoulders, and her face looked pallid in the light of the flourescents. She looked down at her hands, and narrowed her eyes.

Her fingernails had blood under them.

She washed her hands, digging underneath them to remove the tacky substance. It must have only been a few hours old. That was her guess, at least. Eve sadly put her hands down hesitantly, letting the water run over them. She finally shut it off, running her wet hands through her hair and staring at herself as her hair stood up. She let out a burst of laughter, though it was slightly pained and more than a bit bitter.

"Look at you. You're going crazy," she muttered with a wry smile. "You're acting like a little kid. Not like you ever knew what that like anways, though, so you might as well start now..." She sighed, realizing that talking to yourself wasn't exactly a good sign for your mental health. She immediately snatched up her bag and started down the hallway, her eyes lidded darkly as she hurried unenthusiastically to the futon in her office. She passed by the rooms, mentally checking off a check list of names.

_Mr. Sanders. Check. Carl Mendel. Check. Suzie Mistrand. Check. Kanda Yuu- Not check? _She looked into his room, noting how the moon shone off of the giant bush that threatened to spill into the room from the open window. It turned to the leaves silver, and it sparkled prettily, but she didn't care much for aesthetics. To her, it was just a bush that probably needed a good trim. She walked into the room, unlocking it with a skeleton key she kept with her at all times. She walked in, noticing the bed was so neat you could bounce a quarter off it. Her eyes suspiciously looked over the empty room. There was obviously no Kanda to speak of here, and that meant it was the perfect time to snoop through his things...

Of course, her intuition was beginning to buzz like a siren in her brain. Something was... off. It wasn't anything to do with the physical aspects of the room. It was practically pristine. His sword sat in a chair all on its lonesome in the visitor's chair, as if it were waiting for him to come back. A mug sat next to the nightstand, no doubt there just in case some curious young nurse tried to walk in for a free show or something like that. She smirked at the last one, who'd looked white as a sheet upon coming out and refused to say what had transpired. Eve had found lots of little ceramic shards and a very sullen Exorcist who refused to look at her. There were no shards on the ground now, but she felt as if there should be something wrong. Her eyes lingered on the bathroom door, which was decidedly shut against her.

It was then that the smell came to her. She'd come to know it well, having come in contact with it so many times. It had become both ghost and friend, invading her clothes and infusing itself into her very scent. It was only a smell that a doctor, a paramedic, or a soldier could come to understand and live with on a daily basis. It had a way of sneaking away and coming in waves. She had become so used to it that it had begun to disappear all together. She smelled blood.

She hesitantly moved towards the bathroom, her eyes locked on the door. She had the distinct feeling that she was on the right track here. Her brow furrowed as she reached for the door knob.

_Do you really want to go in there?_ She thought for a moment, mulling over the question.

And, before she could think too hard, she ripped the door open, almost breaking the hinges and causing cracks to form around the knob. Eve swallowed as she stepped into the bathroom. It was a standard size bathroom, nothing too fancy. There was a toilet, a sink, a mirror, and a shower-

She stared at the downed figure of Kanda for a few moments, not registering what exactly she was seeing. The smell of blood came on to her full force, wrapping itself around her like a old coat she'd worn too many times to be healthy. Finally, she muttered, "Aw, shit."

* * *

"...Come on...I know you're in there somewhere..." The voice was so far away, as if he was hearing someone speaking inside of a tunnel.

"...I saw you twitch. Don't try to play dead." Something cold slapped his face lightly, leaving a wet trail of something down his cheek. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the feeling of pain and the smell of blood. He was too tired for all of this crap! Why couldn't people just leave him be? Instead, they barged into his room, looked in the windows, stared at the stupid garden box as if they'd never seen a green thing in their life-

He realized that something was not right here. What had happened? Who was it with him? Hadn't he been alone? Kanda finally opened his eyes, looking straight into the face of a woman. Her eyes were flighty, moving from his face to something else above him. There was a pressure on his head, and he could feel something scrape against his scalp. He winced, a pain like a razor shaving the inside of his skull cutting across underneath the focus point of the pain. The woman finally came into focus, and he felt his eyes widen.

"What the- what are you doing here?" he asked angrily. He was all too aware of the fact that the only thing covering him at the moment was a towel; said towel hadn't been there before, if his memory served him correctly. He hoped that it didn't, and he had been addled but whatever had happened.

Eve looked at him with an annoyed twitch of the eye, a 'why-am-I-even-doing-this' expression crossing over her face before she pushed what appeared to be a small hand towel to his head.

"What do you think? I should probably answer that, considering the fact that you probably have a concussion," she said acidically, looking under the towel at the wound on his head. He flinched again as pain lanced through his brain from his scalp.

"Ouch!" Eve growled and said, "Maybe you should stop being so clumsy, and maybe I wouldn't have to stand here and tend to you like you're a child. Dear lord, the situations you manage to get yourself into..." She continued to dab at his head, puckering her lips as she concentrated on cleaning up the wound with what she had on hand. Kanda looked away from her, noting that she was wearing pajamas and had probably thought about going to bed before this.

"So, uh..." Eve answered before he could finish.

"Don't worry, I put the towel there. Wouldn't want to compromise your modesty if some nurse walked in. And besides, I'm a doctor. I've seen worse," she muttered, cleaning the towel in water from the sink. It was already a pinkish red, and the head wound was not as bad as it looked. Kanda colored at the answer and said, "I wasn't going to ask that! God, you're a pervert..." Eve glared at him and pointed an accusatory finger.

"Hey, watch it, pal. I don't have to sit here and listen to you harp all night over your lost privacy just because I happened to find you first," she hissed at him. Kanda only muttered 'tch.' Eve continued to clean the wound, and she put hydrogen peroxide on it to keep it from getting infected. She took a look at his leg and took in a deep breath through her teeth in sympathy. She let out a low whistle and said, "You did a number on your leg. And it's the other one, by the way." She was referring to the leg with a line of stitch scars around the knee. She patted his uninjured appendage and said, "I'll have to get someone else in here to get you somewhere where we can treat it."

Kanda leaned his head back, sighing. That was fantastic. Suddenly, his head jerked up as a sharp pain hit the wounded area, and he let out a sharp, "HEY!" Eve gave him a disbelieving look of indignation, making a face at him. "What? I have to clean it out or else you'll end up with an infection. Called first aid. You should learn it, because maybe then I wouldn't have to save your sorry ass every time you get into trouble." Kanda threw the nearest lump of soap at her in a fit of anger, and it harmlessly bounced off of her shoulder. However, she didn't take it very well...

She kneeled stock still, and suddenly she started to stand up straight with murderous look on her face. Kanda glared defiantly, despite the fact that he was practically nude and he was laid up in a bathroom, of all places. He gave her a challenging look, and asked, "What are you going to do? I already have a broken leg." Eve heaved a giant, long-suffering sigh. She decided not to do much about it, considering. Karma would run its course. Temper held in check, she stared at the leg.

It was pretty gruesome looking. There was no bone sticking out, but there was a good gash on it. An ambitious looking goose egg was growing on his shin. It didn't look at all pleasant, and she was glad of it. Maybe he'd stop running into things like a clumsy clown instead of the samurai he was. Eve said, "I'm going to go get Ryan. He'll be able to-"

And, as luck would have it, the same piece of soap that Kanda had thrown was the piece he'd slipped on. This same piece of soap ended up getting underfoot as Eve turned to leave the bathroom. A look of amazement and surprise crossed her face as she suddenly went down, her hip making a nasty crunching noise as it hit the side of the tub. Kanda sat up abruptly, ready to catch her. It was more habit than conscious thought to catch her, but he instantly regretted it as she smashed into his midriff. A cry of pain erupted from Eve's throat as her hip hit his ribs. It was cut off quickly as Eve bit into her lip.

Kanda let out a long breath, looking at Eve. The woman was curled up on her side, her knuckle in her mouth as she tried to choke off a scream. Kanda winced upon hearing her suddenly labored breathing. Kanda looked at her with a smug look. She stopped biting her knuckle long enough to catch his look. Eve's eye twitched at him and yelled, "What?"

"And you keep telling me about how I end up in stupid situations," he said, his face completely straight. Eve realized the irony of the situation, and she was going to punch him, but her hip moved, and she came close to yelling out again. Kanda winced as well because her weight had shifted, crushing his stomach. Eve laid her head against the wall of the shower, sighing deeply.

"All right, all right, you smug idiot. Now what? We're both walled up here. I can't move. I think I broke my hip," she muttered. Kanda realized that this _was _a big problem. No one knew about him being stuck in the bathroom. The only one had been Eve, and she was stuck with him. However, an idea sprang in his mind, and he shook her shoulder. She looked at him with a strange look and said, "What is it? It's not like I'm falling asleep, you nutjob. You don't have to shake my shoulder." Kanda rolled his eyes at her and said, "Did Allen talk to you?" Eve gave him a once over before saying, "Yeah... yeah he did. Why?"

Kanda leaned his head against the back wall of the tub that was at right angles with Eve's wall. He gave a relieved sigh. He hadn't ever been more relieved that he'd seen that moyashi today. He'd saved him in more ways than one, though Kanda was going to die before he ever admitted it. Unfortunately, that could easily be arranged... Eve gave him an inquiring look and asked, "Why? What's this all about? Are you telling me you were supposed to meet him?" Kanda nodded wearily, getting used to her weight sitting right on top of him. Eve wasn't so comfortable, though. Her legs were hanging over the lip of the tub, and they were steadily losing feeling.

"Here, I've got to move. You just stay still right there, and I'll-" She scooted around so she was sitting longways in the tub instead of sideways. Kanda let out a hiss of pain as her foot brushed his leg, and she muttered, "Oh, stop being such a big- AAH!" Her hip had hit the side of the tub, and it felt like someone had stabbed the devil's pitchfork into her leg and run an electrical current through it. Kanda grimaced at the sound, and he wondered why no one had woken up when they'd heard the noises. Then again, most everyone in this ward was on pain and sleep pills, and everyone was for sure under a hazy cloud of meds. Getting out of here would have to wait until Allen or Lavi showed up to pick him up.

"Could you yell any louder?" Kanda grumbled, and Eve gave him the evil eye. She let out a long, drawn out hiss. Kanda followed suit as his leg sprang into pain with new vengeance.

"Today is just not my day," he said after the wave of pain left, and Eve just nodded, too tired to say much else.

Time passed very slowly for them. It went by, inch by painful inch. Kanda had grown accustomed to Eve's weight, but it was rather uncomfortable given the fact that he was, well, in a towel. Eve wasn't doing much better, having been only wearing the T-shirt, boxers, and underwear. She felt horribly exposed, though she could only imagine how Kanda felt. Finally, she asked, "When was Allen supposed to meet you?" Kanda suddenly realized that they'd had no set time.

"I don't-"

There was a knock on the door, and Lavi stuck his head into the bathroom. "Eeeh, Kanda, are you-... Oh." Lavi's eyes widened as he stared. This was definitely unexpected. His face colored, his eyes glued to the two people in the tub. Kanda realized what it must've looked like and he said, "Lavi-"

"S-sorry! Didn't mean to interrupt! I'm just-"

"Idiot, that's not what-" But the door closed, and it clicked shut. Eve had twisted in her enthusiasm to try and stop Lavi from leaving, but she only succeeding in aggravating her hip even more. She growled in frustration, hitting the side of the tub with a fist. She breathed out a long breath and said, "Well, _he _was helpful. You would've thought he'd have seen the blood first instead of us." She lay back down, her head on Kanda's shoulder. He stiffened at the feeling of hair tickling his neck. He'd never had another person this close to him physically, and it was annoying and unsettling. Doubly more so considering it was his _doctor _he was in a tub with, and under very trying circumstances.

"This sucks," Eve finally said vehemently. Kanda let out a bark of a laugh and asked, "Really? You don't think?" Eve jabbed an elbow towards his ribs, but he caught it easily. Their eyes locked for a moment, and she smirked.

"If your reflexes haven't dulled any, how is it that you ended up like this?" she asked in a tone of disbelief. He glared at her, his eyes turning flinty. He answered tersely, "By accident." Eve rolled her eyes, having expected this already. Kanda wasn't exactly talkative to begin with, and this was going to be a very boring, very painful wait until morning. It seemed as if their only avenue of escape had left them in a fit of blushing and stuttering, and that meant they were going to be here a while.

The next hour or so passed by at the pace of a snail. Kanda's eyes began to droop, but he managed to keep them open because of Eve's strange, sudden twitches and starts. Eve had lots of energy to burn, and he had no doubt that she rolled around in her sleep every night from the way she was moving now. Her eyes were shut, but they were rolling under her lids. She'd fallen asleep, and Kanda was too aware of how, asleep, she seemed to look so young. Her breath kept passing over his neck and the underside of his chin in a regular rhythm, and her pulse flashed on top of his shoulder. Her head was turned up towards him, her neck exposed. He thought about how easy it would be to just get rid of her right then and there. Heaven knew he'd imagined slapping the little devil around. Here, she was vulnerable, but Kanda knew that his dislike for her didn't really reach that far. In fact, he couldn't really call it dislike so much as annoyed tolerance. She as a breath of fresh air, considering everyone treated him like a dead man walking (when he could walk, of course). He'd die before he admitted it, though.

His concussion made his stomach jump in odd motions, and nausea plagued him. He was able to control it for the most part, but every now and again he felt bile in the back of his throat, threatening to make a grand debut. Of course, if he'd thrown up all over Eve and himself, she wouldn't have ever let him live it down, and that was the last thing he needed to give her: more dirt to bury him with. Eve suddenly shifted on top of him, avoiding her broken hip so she was lying on top of him instead. He stiffened considerably, the amount of skin that was touching becoming all too apparent. He wanted to run as far away as he could at that moment, his face flaming. He turned his face away from her sleeping one, as if any moment she'd wake up to see his face as red as a beet. He took a deep breath.

"Kanda?" The voice startled him, and he turned to Eve. She looked like she was still asleep, but her breathing was shallower now. Her mouth moved again and she asked, "Are you afraid?" Kanda swallowed unsteadily and asked tersely, "Of what?" There was a deliberative pause and she answered, "Of death." Kanda's eyebrows met. This was a strange choice of topic. Why would she want to know that?

"... I don't know." There was another pause. It was a soft, pregnant silence that was full of thoughts. Finally, Eve whispered, "I saw you. On the balcony." Kanda's eyes widened. He looked down at her, and she suddenly opened her eyes. They were angry, full of indignation. Their brown depths were swallowing, fiery, consuming. He was suddenly aware that she'd spoken.

"You're an idiot for even thinking about it." Kanda blew out a swift scoff and said, "What do you mean? What are you, a mindreader as well as being insane?" Eve ruffled, a bird of prey becoming furious at being taunted by another fellow avian.

"I was talking about how you were just standing on that balcony with the waves crashing up forty feet. You could've fallen over, you idiot," she said, not admitting anything. He stared at her, and he asked, "What about you? Are you afraid of death? You spend enough time around it." Eve seemed to be taken off balance, but she recomposed herself. She didn't respond immediately. Kanda watched her intently, staring at her until she seemed to squirm.

"Yeah." His eyes widened, but then he narrowed them suspiciously. What was he going to have to pay for this answer? She continued on without any further prompting.

"I'm afraid of death, yes. I'm a doctor. I like things that are... that are known. The unknown scares those that rely on facts and figures," she explained. Her eyes were cast in a different expression, not willing to look at him. Kanda moved his gaze off of her and to the ceiling above. The single light shone softly with an incandescent glow. He found his eyes start to fall down, leaden weights attached to them. He jerked himself awake, but suddenly Eve was running a hand through his hair. He leaned away from her, but Eve continued to brush her fingers through his hair.

"Go to sleep. You'll be fine. It's been a good three hours. Concussions can't hurt you too bad after that. You're going to need the rest," she said wearily, her eyes searching his black colored irises. They both held a silent locked gaze before Kanda let his eyes shut.

"If you're wrong, I'm killing you, dead or not," he muttered. Eve gave a harsh laugh. "Since when am I wrong?" Kanda peeked open an eye and said, "I can think of a few times." Eve only scoffed at the notion, as if it were an absurd fantasy. Kanda tried to get comfortable, or at least as comfortable one could be in a bath tub with a woman with a woman with a broken hip. Eve studied his face for a few minutes before saying, "You're not used to having a woman around, are you?" Kanda gave a tired groan.

"Can I sleep?" he asked. Eve smirked.

"Yeah. Sure."

* * *

Lavi stared into his drink. The image of Kanda and Eve kept popping up every time he saw a dark-haired woman come into the bar or see a tall man in the shadows somewhere. It was like the image was burned into his brain. He wasn't very sure about why this bothered him so much, but there was something about those two that made his head spin. Maybe it was because he'd never seen Yuu with a girl before. Heaven knew the man deserved to find a girl before he died, but Eve seemed a bit far-fetched.

"Lavi? Is there something wrong?"

Lavi looked up with surprise, realizing that he'd been staring intently at his drink to the point where several people were staring. He stuttered, "Y-yeah, I'm fine, really! Just... just thinking about something. It's nothing, really." Allen continued to stare at his friend with an concerned look, but he had his own worries on him. He ran a hand through his mussed, white hair making it stand on end. Lavi looked over at his alabastar skinned friend, and he wondered what life would've been like if none of them were Exorcists. Lavi would've gone on recording history, of course, but Allen... Allen would've found a nice girl and settled down. Lenalee would never have the nightmares that still plagued her every now and then. Lavi's expression fell, though, as he thought about Kanda. In all truths, Kanda Yuu, as they knew him of course, would never have existed. Kanda had been created for the purpose of killing Akuma. Now that they were dwindling in number, did that mean that Kanda's health was linked to them? Would they have to fight a never-ending war to keep him alive?

But, of course, this was preposterous. Lavi shook the thought of his head. Krory was sitting down the bar, nursing a small vodka while talking to a friend of his. He'd, as of late, become acquainted with a fellow Exorcist named Geneva, and they'd gotten along famously. It also helped that Geneva looked vaguely like Eliade, but her personality was of a different tone than the Akuma that Krory had unwittingly fell in love with. Lavi turned to Allen and asked, "So, have you told him yet?"

Allen gave Lavi a pained expression before turning to stare over the bar. He gripped his drink, the leather glove over his blackened hand squeaking on the glass. Lavi shook his head and said, "Allen, you don't know how long he has. Tomorrow he could be dead or worse." Allen sighed and muttered, "I know that, Lavi, but it isn't easy. I don't want to tell him. Not... not yet." Lavi cocked his head and looked at Allen with a strange look.

"Why don't you want to say anything? Are you embarrassed or something?" Allen started, looking at Lavi with a strange surprised lift of the eyebrows. He stammered, "N-no, no, of course not. I'm not embarrassed, it's just... Why would Kanda want to know?" Lavi shrugged and asked, "What if Kanda was to be part of his life?" Allen looked sidelong at Lavi before shrugging. Lavi shifted in his seat, leaning on the bar with one elbow, the other hand on his knee. Lavi asked, "So, who has Evan tonight, anyways?" Allen smiled, an inner light seeming to shine out of him.

"Lily said she'd take him tonight. She said that Komui would help her keep an eye on him, but I think she meant that Komui would be a playmate. They have the same sort of mentality after all."

Lavi nodded. The Bookman had found about Allen's adopted son nearly a week after Allen had received him. The boy had been found in the rubble, and there wasn't an orphanage that would take him. He had a birthmark that was in the shape of a perfect circle on the back of his hand. The area they'd found him in was horribly superstitious, and no one would keep the nine-month-old. After traveling towards the Order for a month, Allen and Evan, as they'd dubbed him, had gotten attached to one another so much that if Evan was taken too far away from Allen he'd cry and refuse to be consoled. Allen had adopted him soon enough. Lenalee offered to be a sort of godmother for the baby as well.

But Kanda had no idea of what had happened. They hadn't told him yet about Evan, or the fact that Allen was an adoptive father. They weren't sure if he'd be interested or not, or if he'd just ignore it all together. Kanda wasn't exactly a kids type person.

"How'd you manage to get him off of you?" the redhead asked, amusedly. Allen rolled his eyes and said, "It took a lot of candy, a lot of bribing, and a lot of Lily playing patty cake with him." It was strange to think that Allen now had to worry about Evan as well as himself. Was it just a few years ago that Allen had been a sixteen year old who worried about the Fourteenth? And he himself, Lavi, had only kept a name for a few months. This was the longest he'd kept an identity, and he was finding that he loved it dearly. He would be loathe to part with it.

And that brought on the next subject of the night.

Allen turned to Lavi with a disturbingly intense gaze. His light gray eyes were stormy with emotion as he choked out, "And have you... you told Kanda about when you'll be-"

"No." Lavi had turned his head away from Allen and his stare. He was also guilty of keeping things from his friend, but he believed it was for his own good. While Allen's news was more good than anything else, Lavi could only bring bad news to his dear friend. Lavi would not be an Exorcist for much longer. Panda-jiji had already decided that they'd stayed for much too long. Even old Bookman was beginning to grow attached this his non-identity among the Exorcists despite his indifference towards the Order. In the next six months, they would begin to shed their identities and turn towards the next war along the path of unwritten history.

"You told me yourself, he might not-"

"Allen, whatever I tell him is not going to help him get better. At least a child might hold his interest just a little longer so that he can look forward to something. My leaving... I don't even like thinking about it," Lavi admitted, staring back into his drink. The colors of the lights above his head reflected darkly in the amber liquid of brandy and water. He squeezed his eyes shut and said, "I'm a terrible Bookman."

Allen frowned and said, "Lavi, you're a good Bookman. But, better yet, you're also a very good friend. We all knew that at one point in time, you'd have to leave us. And face it, Kanda will find out eventually. You know how he is when he gets a whiff of something going on." Lavi smiled ruefully, thinking about Kanda on the warpath. Over the years, things had plagued both Allen and himself, and every time Kanda would back them in a corner and hound them until they told him. He couldn't stand secrets, that was the plain truth of it.

"I guess we both have our secrets to keep," Lavi muttered slowly as the noise of the bar rose louder. A group of Finders had come into town from a successful find, and they were here to celebrate. He looked at Allen who was staring at the group of happy Finders. Allen sighed and said, "I'm not sure how they do it, Finders. They go out into the world to find the Innocence, even though they're the most likely to die if they ever encounter Akuma. They willingly go into danger nearly every day, and yet..."

Lavi stared at them. They were dressed in street clothes, just as Lavi and Allen were. Everyone in the bar had abandoned their usual uniform. Lavi nodded and said, "It's because they have a choice. And they believe they've made the right choice. We Exorcists don't have much of a choice in the matter. Things are different when you have the option to back out... and passing that option up."

Allen nodded in agreement. He looked around the bar, seeing faces he knew. Lenalee was here too, drinking with a lady friend of hers. She looked over at Allen and Lavi, waving at them happily while her tow-headed friend smiled and waved as well. Lavi and Allen returned the favor.

"How's Lenalee doing, anyways?" Lavi asked quietly with a distracted tone. Allen looked at Lavi. He was getting more and more absentminded these days, his focus waning for no apparent reason. Allen said, "She doesn't wake up as often. Komui tells me she's better." Lenalee had suffered a great shock when she'd come very close to death in a battle near a Romanian castle. Ever since, they'd all had helped the Chinese Exorcists.

"Things are crazy these days, aren't they?" Allen asked. He looked at his friend whose mind was obviously somewhere else. Everything had changed so fast. Lenalee, growing up. Allen, an adoptive father. Kanda, sick as a dog and ornery as ever. Komui, slowing down. And Lavi... Lavi felt like while everyone else was moving forwards, he was running in place. Everyone was leaving him behind, just where a Bookman was supposed to be. Even so, Lavi was horrified by the sudden detachment he'd found. He didn't want to lose everyone, but he had no choice. This was his life. It was everything he'd worked for. But was it worth it?

"Lavi?" Lavi jolted out of his reverie. He looked at Allen with a strange, blank look.

"Did you say something?" Lavi asked. Allen nodded and said, "I was asking about what was bothering you. You were muttering something about Eve and Kanda. Did Eve tell you something?"

Lavi's one green eye suddenly gleamed with gossip. Allen realized that he'd just treaded on a subject that he probably didn't want to hear, but was going to hear anyways regardless.

"Well, I walked into Kanda's bedroom looking for him, and guess who I found..."


	8. Too Close For Comfort

Eve looked over her notes again, convinced that she was on the right track. At the current time, her treatments were continuing to work, but it would only go so far before Kanda hit another obstacle on the road to recovery. She had a feeling they were about to hit one now. The fact that his decline and progress was becoming normal also told her that the extent of said declines and progresses could be tracked and estimated. Her predictions had not come up to be good news. She tapped her chin as she thought about it some more, wondering if she should stick her neck out that far. She'd told her head intern, Ryan, about it, and she'd also told him to keep those flapping lips sealed shut before she stitched them closed. He'd run off like a jackrabbit in a thunderstorm, and she'd been satisfied he wouldn't tell a soul, but now she wasn't so sure.

She didn't know why she was going to keep this method a secret. Once she left the Order's European HQ, it would be obvious what she was doing to any of the Vatican who cared to look deep enough into the red tape. She sighed as she put down the diagrams from the Artificial Disciples Project. They held schematics for the structure of a Second Exorcist, but they didn't show too extently about how one was created. Unfortunately, this was the one bit of information that Eve did want to know. Perhaps it was not in the Second Exorcist itself that lie the solution or the problem- perhaps it was the _creation _of one such being that caused this sudden degradation. And, if you could degrade something, you could turn it right back around.

"Working late?" Eve looked up with a confused expression. Most patients knew that she worked late hours and spent most of her nights at the hospital, but it was three in the morning. The man in the doorway was hidden in shadow, and Eve suddenly felt like she was in the middle of an old detective noir film. She sat back in her chair, taking the papers and shuffling them into a straight pile. She looked directly at the man, and she said, "Yeah. I am. Death doesn't take a break. I'm still trying to beat his work ethic. I dare say I'm winning." Her cultured Oxford accent sounded strange even to her ears. It seemed that she'd managed to copy that as well from the woman she'd claimed to be. Had she become that woman? The thought seemd to rattle in her brain as the man said,"Well, you certainly do a good job... perhaps too good of a job." The man had a thick Texan accent, and Eve suddenly felt apprehensive.

The man was nearly six foot tall and thickset. He had his hands in his pockets, and he held himself in that lazy way all Texans seemed to accomplish without seeming incompetent. His eyes glittered from the light of her desk lamp, and she could see none of his face other than that glimmer of light reflected off his eyes. She tapped her fingers against the desk, and she asked, "What exactly, sir, did you come here for?"The man nodded and said, "Pardon me, Miss, if I was rude. Didn't mean to be." He walked in with a long, loping stride, and he sat down in a chair opposite of her desk.

"You are?" she asked. The man shrugged, his lean face shadowed by a small shade of stubble as well as a handlebar mustache. His hair was slicked back, and he had a toothpick hanging out the side of his mouth. He answered tersely, "Not important." A shiver ran through Eve. She, of all people, knew that when you refused to give out your name, bad news was coming. And this man wouldn't have looked out of place if his forehead was tattooed in capital letters, 'BAD NEWS RIGHT HERE.' To Eve, he might as well have. Her hand gripped the arm on her chair, and one hand strayed to the knife she always kept underneath the desk top. She blinked at him, her face cool and composed as her flighty mind tried to make sense of things.

She saw that he wore the sign of the papacy on his lapel, a pair of upside down keys. Dread settled in her stomach as the day that Link had come to warn her came to mind. Her eyes surreptitiously did the man a once-over, and her heart just about stopped as she caught a glimpes of a revolver in a holster at his hip. She swallowed and said, "Excuse me, then, if I ask your purpose for coming here at such a late hour." He smiled, his long white teeth shining in the light of the desk lamp. He lowered his head, toying with a ring on his finger as he said, "My, my, Dolly, you sure get straight to it, I'll hand you that. Faster'n a rattler with its tail caught." She narrowed her eyes as he slyly looked up without ever moving his head.

"I know you've seen the sign right here, haven't ya?" he asked, gesturing with a nod to the small sign on his breast. Eve didn't make any move to acknowledge he'd spoken of it. He leaned his head back, never taking his eyes off of Eve.

"You know what they up there in the Big House up in Rome is talking 'bout? You. You're one big bee in their bonnet, young lady, and I'll tell you right now- they've caught of wind of a stank that's been blowin' from this direction concernin' a certain... person of interest," he drawled. Eve's face continued to remain a blank, noncommittal mask. He continued, "They just wanted to say that, they ain't so happy with you right now. I know them science fellers keep tellin' 'em to wait, 'cuz eventually yer gonna die just like all them others, but the reds up in the high chair ain't so sure. They don't think you're what you say you are. And that makes them a bit nervous." Eve finally spoke, her eyes glacial as she said,"You've come here to warn me."

The man grinned again, his long white teeth reminding Eve unsettlingly of a horse. He laughed and said, "Aw, shoot. I'm sad they done sent me after you. Yer a right funny bone, darlin'. Too bad, though. Nope, I ain't here to warn ya." He suddenly drew his revolver and leveled it on the desk, the barrel aimed for Eve directly under her breastbone. Eve never lost her defiant gaze as he said sadly, "I've always heard 'don't shoot the messenger', but I don't ever recall hearing the messenger doin' the shootin'." Eve threw the knife under the desk at the man faster than you would've thought a doctor could move, but he blocked it with his gun as he shouted.

Eve stood up and ran around the desk and out the door. This was definitely not good. She came to a stop outside of the hospital, the doors right behind her before she heard the whizz of a bullet. She winced as it nearly connected with her ear, and she started to run for the forest. She slowed near the canal near the edge of the grounds, and suddenly there was another gunshot. Eve's eyes widened as she felt something hot and wet drip down. She turned around as she stared at the Texan who'd not even given her the privilege of knowing his name.

Thoughts raced through her mind as she felt her blood slowly seep out. Who was she going to die as? It seemed a strange thought to come across, but it was legitimate in Eve's head. Who was she this time? Did it even matter? Was that the whole reason why this was happening, because of her identity? The Texan removed himself from the shade of a fir tree, and he leveled his pistol at the still standing, still shocked Eve.

"Sorry girlie-girl. Them reds don't like takin' chances. Sad, though- they should've let God deal with it. Guess sometimes, a man's just gotta do it himself."

* * *

The early morning rays filtered through the window, a green tint crossing the room as it shone through the leaves of what some of the patients now called 'The Mutant.' The bush was big enough to fill half of the window. Already, there were several plants in Kanda's room, all of which were flowering already. People were still waiting for the day The Mutant decided to show its true colors, but obviously it was deciding to give the air of suspense. No buds or growths had appeared, and people were beginning to wonder if it was even a flowering plant. Still, The Mutant had been neglected of its daily attention today because of a single redhaired man with an eyepatch who'd just stumbled in from a rather harrowing decision.

"You're leaving?" Kanda asked in a disbelieving tone. Lavi looked away from Kanda, not even bothering to look into his eyes. Panda had been adamant. Ever since the Earl had died, he'd started talking more and more about the war behind the scenes in Russia where the Draculs were pressed against the Russian Tolstoys up to the north of them. He would have to assume another identity. He'd have to get another name. And he'd never see Kanda or Lenalee or Allen or Komui ever again. Kanda knew that all too well, and it hurt more than he'd care to admit. Kanda coughed awkwardly, but suddenly it turned into a very real, hacking sound, and Lavi quickly got him water. Kanda downed it, making a face at the strange taste. It seemed that any sort of edible liquid or food in proximity to the hospital immediately lost its flavor- or, at the worst, tasted absolutely disgusting.

"When?" Kanda asked with a straight face, not giving the slightest hint of inflection. Lavi suddenly looked torn, his eyes tightening and his expression growing sad. His gaze was teary as he said quietly, "Probably in the next six months. That's what the Old Panda says, anyways, but I think he's sort of gotten fond of this place, too." Lavi looked down, a sad smile on his face. Panda hated to admit it, but the old Bookman had grown to love the staff of the Order even though it went against all his long years of experience as a Bookman.

"My apprenticeship isn't over yet. I'm stuck with him, I guess. Where he goes, I go," he muttered. He didn't care about that anymore, though. He had _friends _here. Being a Bookman, being privy to all the secrets the world had to offer, being a different person and stepping into a different skin every month- it had no such charm to him any longer. However, an apprenticeship as a Bookman was not breakable. It was a lifelong indenture, and Kanda understood that all too well. Kanda merely closed his eyes, an angry look on his face. He'd recently gotten stitches under his eye from a rather purposeful accident on Eve's part, and he had a habit of toying with the sutures. Seeing Kanda's hand creep up to his face, Lavi slapped the hand away. Kanda rubbed it and glared at Lavi, who helpless shrugged.

"What was that for?" Lavi smiled and said, "If you play with those stitches any more, you're going to end up tearing them. And after that, Eve will stitch you up again. _Without _the anesthetic." Lavi gave a squinty-eyed smile, his teeth long and white as he offered a grin. Kanda wanted so much to beat those pearly whites from his mouth. Suddenly, Kanda coughed again, and he reached for the water. He glared at it first before taking a long drink and setting it down with a firm 'clap!' He sighed and said, "I hate the water here. It tastes like crap." Lavi, glad for the change of subject, asked, "You've tasted crap?" Kanda grimaced.

"Unfortunately."

As of late, Kanda had been getting better. In fact, it was to the point where he could walk around with little difficulty from either leg, injured as they may have been. These periods of aggressive healing and steady decline had begun to lengthen out and become rather regular, with the extent of the decline periods lasting as long as two weeks. Kanda was in the end of a recovery period, and he dreaded having to suffer through more medication, though Eve had lightened the load upon seeing how regular these drops and rises in health had become. They all seemed optimistic, so Lavi had decided the hammer blow should be then and there, when he was strong enough to handle it. To Lavi's eyes, Kanda was taking it rather well. Allen, upon first hearing about it, had started to cry, though the poor beansprout had tried to hide it. Even Lenalee had been immensely pained, clinging to him for several more minutes before trying to slap a smile on her face and congratulate him despite her pain. Panda was strangely aloof these days, probably preparing for the day when they'd leave the Order behind to go on and record the rest of Earth's unwritten history. Even so, Lavi, who knew the old man better than anyone, knew that he didn't want to leave just as much as Lavi himself.

"I'd like to hear that story." Kanda looked like he wanted to hit him over the head with Mugen's hilt, but was refraining. He didn't want to risk tearing a muscle and having to have someone glue him back together again like some sort of Frankenstein. He rolled his eyes and he said, "I doubt you'll ever hear it, if it's the last thing I do." Lavi winced at the comment, but Kanda paid no mind. Obviously, you took the humor where you could get it, even if it was dark, morbid, and sarcastic, though this was Kanda's usual sense of humor anyways. Kanda looked out the door, and he asked, "Hey, Idiot Rabbit, what time is it? Shouldn't you be harrassing some other sick guy? I'm sure he'd love to be woken up at six in the morning with your screaming." Lavi giggled hysterically, scratching his chin as he looked out the door nervously.

Lavi had been snooping lately around Eve's office. He'd been sure that she had something she was hiding, but he'd never gotten the chance to take a good, _good _look at everything. Unfortunately, as stealthy as he was with his Bookman skills, she'd found him in her apartment, on the ceiling in her closet. Needless to say, she was less than happy. Just about the entire floor woke up to hearing him scream his head off as Eve threatened to unman him of his reproductive organs. She basically _lived _at the hospital nowadays, so she'd been clad in a robe and holding a bundle of clothes, no doubt having just come out of the shower. So maybe the threats to his balls had probably been justified. It was still humiliating.

"Yeah, about that- Don't you ever wonder why she sleeps here? Isn't that weird?" Kanda gave him a dry look. He shook his head and said, "Think about it, _baka usagi. _She works with unstable people. She doesn't trust the interns if something goes wrong." He put up a good point. He himself had had to be saved the night that he'd broken his leg; it had been the time Lavi had had a rather hasty misunderstanding of Kanda's nightly activities when he found Kanda and his doctor in the tub together. That had been a shock. Lavi had had to check his hair in the mirror to make sure he didn't have a white streak. Just because Eve was cute didn't mean that thinking about Kanda and her _together _didn't make him wince.

But, speaking of white streaks... Kanda ran a hand through his hair idly, a glint of silver catching his eyes. Eve had explained it to him, and he felt stupid for being so vain over such a small thing as hair color. He couldn't help it, though. His black hair was softly streaked with silver lines, and everyone couldn't help but notice. They looked out of place on the head of a man hardly over the age of twenty-five, and it pained Lavi to see Kanda's eyes tighten slightly as he saw one glitter on the bed of black color. Lavi's face softened as he whispered,"You know, you never think about it. Aging. Dying. Not until it hits you in the face. Sometimes, it's not the body that's dying, either. Sometimes, it's... yourself." He looked up at Kanda, comfortingly putting his hand on his knee. Kanda looked down at the hand before looking up at Lavi. The young redhead smiled, his eyes heavy as he said, "You haven't died on the inside, yet, Kanda. Any other man would've caved."

Lavi didn't catch the expression that flitted across Kanda's face. It was like, for a moment, his world had fallen to pieces. He suddenly remembered the day on the balcony, looking down at the ocean. He'd thought about it... so much... Lavi had no idea. He thought he was _strong. _He thought he was _brave. _He was so wrong. He was so, so wrong. Kanda wasn't brave at all. He was scared, and he felt like hiding. He felt like dying, but he didn't want to die like _this_. He swallowed the lump in his throat, turning his face away from Lavi and muttering, "Tch. You're a sap." Lavi smiled lopsidedly, mistaking the turn of the head and biting retort for modesty, not shame. Lavi got up as he saw Eve stand outside the door. Her eyes were strangely downcast as she motioned for him to leave. Lavi's face dropped to one of sadness. She looked horrible. It was like... like... He couldn't even describe it. There was an air about her that appeared defeated. It was like she'd lost the will to fight.

He left, eyeing her. She lifted her face once to stare at him, her eyes molten by furious sadness. Lavi nearly gasped as she walked past, her perfume of blood and paper following her into the room as she closed the door. Lavi ventured down the hall, thinking about the look she'd given him. What had that been about? Worry gripped his stomach as he thought about what Yuu had looked like when he'd been there to see him. He'd been... been pale. His hair was streaked with silver. There were no bags under his eyes, but the veins of his skin stood stark against the moon-pale skin. Could she have predicted a relapse? Was there something wrong? Perhaps there was something wrong with the doctor herself. Lavi found he couldn't breath. He'd have to ask her when she came back. If she came back, that was.

Lavi walked out of the ward, too preoccupied to notice the man in a dark suit walk straight past. They nearly smashed into each other, and Lavi looked up. The man tipped his felt hat, and say,"Sorry, partner. Wasn't watchin' m'step." Lavi also apologized, and left without so much as a backward glance. It was out of character for Lavi to be so vague in his thinking and consciousness that later in the day, Panda would ask of it. He would only look off and mutter, "It's nothing." This, obviously, was a very big lie.

* * *

Eve sat in her chair next to Kanda's bed, her vision downcast. He watched her with an air of wariness. When she was sad, she was violent and aggressive. If she was angry, she was deadly calm and still. If she was happy, there was a small, secret smile on her face and she fiddled with things while lost in her thoughts. This... this was something new. He'd only ever seen her like this once. That had not been a happy day, not at all.

He had never told her he'd seen her out the window. He never said anything about the day he watched her walk out into the rain, handful of papers in her hands while she sat at the bench, her face to the clouds. No doubt, she was crying as she did so. The rain hid her tears with ones of their own from the clouds, masking her sadness for dull indifference. She was not one to be sad outwardly. To be sad- that was weakness. To be angry was also weakness, but not so much as sadness. That day, she had told him that he was set to die on a specific date, but a date no one knew because the papers had been so ruined. Of course, the fact that she'd taken them out into the rain hadn't helped matters. That day was ingrained in his memory, and he couldn't forget it, no matter how long he lived whether it be a few days to the rest of a normal life span. She wrung her hands for a moment before dropping them in her lap. She stared into her lap as she said, very clearly, "Kanda."

He stared at her, his eyes and the miniscule lines framing them blinked slowly as he said, "Yes?" She took a breath before she answered, "There is nothing more I can do for you." His eyes widened. What... did she mean? What was this? Was she giving up? Was he a lost cause? What had brought this on? A man would have buckled underneath the stress of saving this many lives in a field so unstudied. A weaker man would've given up. Was she the weaker man? He looked down, his vision blurring. Why was she telling him this?

"There is nothing I can do for you because my treatments will, eventually, hit a stopping point where they will no longer effect you." Without treatment, he would die. He would leave this earth quietly, waiting in line just like everyone else on the planet. If there was nothing to save him, he might as well find the nearest Level Four Akuma and attempt to take it down. At least, his death would be honorable, to take down a worthy adversary of incredible prowess though he himself would be far inferior in his state. He clenched his fists never the less. He wasn't going to lie down and let them put him out like a candle. He still had life in him yet. Lavi's words suddenly came back to him.

_"Any other man would've caved before now." _He held on to this sentiment like a life raft floating on a dark, stormy sea of emotion. Was this true, though? Would anyone else have caved long before he himself would have? He clenched a fist, and stared at the ground. He couldn't look at Eve, not if he wanted to keep his composure. Eve started talking again as she said, "Without treatment, I suspect you will live at least a month. With treatment, as far as this one goes, you'll probably make it to a year, if not more. However... I must begin new avenues of medicinal research regarding your case as well as the other Exorcists. I can't just _treat _this. I have to _cure _it." She looked him in the eyes, and he suddenly felt a flash of hope. What was this? Had she said-? Did this mean she wasn't going to leave him to die? His eyes were wide as he stared at her unabashed. She, herself, had her eyes to the floor instead.

"I will be testing other methods soon, and I will be studying your make-up and overall creation very carefully. This may be a bit upsetting, given your past as a Second Exorcist. I'm pretty sure you'd already figured that," she said, awkwardly rubbing her hand, and Kanda looked down. His eyes narrowed as he stared. Blood under her fingernails, yet again. He focused on her face. What was with this look that had crossed her face? There wasn't something right with this. How was it that something that gave him such hope could bring her despair? It was almost as if something...something about this was triggering something in her. An event? Her past was virtually unknown by all except for a select few. He'd never heard her talk about herself before. And the blood under her fingernails...

It was dried. The substance was almost always tacky after the first few hours before drying into a crust. She would've washed her hands long before this unless she'd been preoccupied with something. He stared at her as she looked at him and said, "I may have to go to China to look at the lab myself. You are to stay here under the supervision of Komui and the other interns while I'm gone. Which means, of course, no soba, exercise, or overall fun." The last bit of dry wit came without any real bite to it, and that's when Kanda knew something was very wrong with her. Worry piled up on him, and he suddenly wondered why he was so worried about her. She'd done nothing but give him pain... and to save his life as well. A feeling of guilt must have assailed him; that was why he felt this worry. Something about this was biting at his brain, though. He wasn't sure what it was. Some feeling, some strange emotion at the thought of restarting the Artificial Disciples Project over again, to relive the nightmare-

"Kanda? Are you listening?" He jerked his head up to look at her face. He blinked several times as his brain tried to keep up with what was going on. Of course- she'd been talking, and he hadn't been paying attention. He had been focused on her hands. They had disappeared, in fact, into the large sleeves of her coat, and he asked, "Is it cold in here?" She stared at him with a perplexed look, pulling her out of her funk for the moment as a doctor's instinct tickled her brain.

"No, no it's not. Are you all right?" Kanda nodded, but as he thought about it, he did feel a little odd. That was nothing new. In fact, it was much more preferable to the alternative, which was usually a broken leg, ripped skin, or a large headache. Her image began to swim, however, and Kanda rubbed his eyes, waiting for his vision to clear. This was becoming more and more frequent as well. She had said that his eyes were deteriorating just as fast as the integrity of his bones, and he'd no doubt have to wear glasses in the next couple of weeks. He hated to wear glasses, and these lapses in vision didn't last long, fortunately. A burning suddenly entered his brain, but it quickly left behind a numbness that wasn't entirely new. He opened his eyes, staring at the blanket over his knees. The weave and weft of it was all too clear, and he wondered what was with this sudden progression. It wasn't normal, though hardly anything about Kanda could be considered normal.

Dimly, he thought he heard Eve say something, and he turned to look up at her. Her image was all too crisp as well, but her face was a cool mask of control. Underneath the mask, however, was something entirely different. _Real _concern, _real _worry, lines on her face that she couldn't erase, were set into her expression and about her eyes. Even though he couldn't hear her-

He suddenly realized that he couldn't hear her. His eyes widened as her lips moved, but no sound reached his ears. He shook his head and pointed to his ears. He said, "I can't-" He stopped midsentence in confusion as he felt his own jaw move, but no sound issue forth. No, that wasn't right- sound _was _coming out. He could feel it in his chest and in his throat, but his ears weren't registering any of it at all. It was a strange sensation, and he snapped his mouth shut as it became apparent that he'd gone deaf. Eve stopped talking, her lips pressed in a line as she brought her fingers next to his ear. He shied away, but she held his head still with her other hand. She did something beside his ear with her other hand, and he guessed she'd snapped his fingers. She asked him something, and he watched her lips move. He slowed them down in his brain, trying to catch what she'd said merely by reading her lips.

"What...dih... I... -o?" He filled in the blanks. She'd said, "What did I do?" He finally answered, "I think you snapped your fingers." She closed her eyes, and by the way she'd clenched her teeth and her throat vibrated, he guessed she'd just swore. She shook her head as she got up and paced the room. She was talking some more about something. He rolled his eyes, and it was obvious she was only speaking to hear herself speak, because she knew for a fact he was basically deaf as a post at the moment. He took a deep breath, and looked back at her. She was staring at him intently, and he returned the sentiment as well. They were like that for a while before Eve suddenly grabbed a pad of paper and removed a pen from her pocket.

She scibbled something down on the paper and handed it to him. He cursed her doctor's script because it was hardly legible, and he had a hard enough time reading English these days as it was. He rarely read anything in English, considering the wealth of Japanese books that had been taken from what survived of Edo. He'd recieved them all as a sort of 'heritage.' Almost no one lived on Edo any more, and he'd had plenty of time these days to read them. His eyes scanned the script.

_Do you feel weak? Does anything feel numb? What can you hear? _

He looked up at tried to say, "I don't think I feel weak. And nothing's numb at the mo-" The air in his lungs seemed to stop as that numbness he'd felt in his brain spread. It was like an oil slick, and everything suddenly seemed to slow down. He tried to breathe, and found that he couldn't. It was as if he'd forgotten how. He tried again, and again, and again. He was so focused on trying to breath, he hadn't noticed that he'd fallen over on the bed, grasping at his throat. His vision danced with little black dots. They were growing and growing, and for a moment he saw Eve's face hover over him. She was doing something to his chest. Her hands were over them, and he could hardly see what she was saying. His hearing was still off in Lalaland, and she was pounding on his chest hard. Everything was confusing, and the lack of oxygen was not helping him figure things out either.

What was going on?

The world seemed to turn both too slow and too fast. Eve appeared to be moving at the speed of light, and yet Kanda could see every action clearly as the light of day. She was barking orders into an intercom, smashng a button over his head, kneeling next to him and trying to speak to him. His ears were full of cotton, though. Nothing came in, and nothing was going out either. Dry, vacuumed space took the place of his lungs, and he felt as if his chest were about to implode and explode all at once. The absense of oxygen sucked his brain of any type of coherent thought that dealt with his seemingly imminent demise. It was just pain, regret, and a strange sort of peace that was far off in his mind. Was this the way he was going to die? Suffocating? Asphyxiated by the people who had saved him- how cruel irony could be, sometimes.

And, just like that, cheap air filled his lungs, coursing his throat like a rough lover's shove. He drank it, he took it, he greedily enjoyed it as he felt it whoosh back out of him. All feeling had seemed to leave him, and he closed his eyes. His ears seemed to begin their functions again as he heard garbled sounds, indistinct voices. There, again, a light feeling in his head. That peace was so near, so close, he felt as if he could reach out his fingers and touch it. It was jerked away from him again as a flood of used air filled his lungs, and he felt his heart beat faster and faster. His brain jolted out of its lightning speed lethargy, and he realized what was going on. His eyes snapped open to find that Eve had her mouth over his own, and she was breathing him the air that he desperately needed. If he could've shuddered, he would have. She was yelling at someone else as well, but he couldn't make out what it was. He still wasn't able to breathe.

Again and again, like a bungee jumper on his cord, he was yanked back and forth between that numbingly sweet peace, and the harsh, beautiful, coarse reality of life. Every breath was disgusting and sweet, every movement a paradox to his existence. He should be dead. He should be _dead _as a _doornail, _and he was still here. Still, in that strange place called the mind, he wondered if he honestly wanted to be alive. What was there for him if he was living? Yet, as he lay there, Eve breathing new life in him every thirty seconds or so, he knew the answer to that question. Had he not died so many times when Mugen had not known he was his companion? Hadn't he survived escaping the Asian Branch's Science Department? He'd weathered through hundreds, if not thousands of fights, and yet he'd never thought air could be so sweet as when recycled by another breathing person to his own trachea.

A stunning pain starburst from his chest, and for a moment he was lost in the sensation. The samurai had never thought of pain as his friend, but at that moment it was the best one he had. It meant he was still alive. It meant he was still _here. _The thought of losing himself to that sticky-sweet numbing feeling that had taken him over seemed sickly to him all of a sudden, and air flooded him again before something else replaced it. Air, good clean air, filled his lungs to the brim, and he felt a strange sense of euphoria. It left as the air whooshed out of him, and he wanted desperately to do it himself. How long would this go on?

And, all of a sudden, so quickly as to almost not be noticed, he felt a jolt. It was like something had clicked in his brain, a joint popping into its assigned place. He sucked in the air himself, and he sat up. Eve, who'd been kneeling beside him on the hospital bed backed up as Kanda gripped the oxygen mask to his face. He took in another big breath, but he was careful to control himself. Breathing too much all at once would only serve to knock him back out. He'd seen enough new Exorcists hyperventilate and black out that way. Another slow breath rooted into his lungs. His starved brain seemed to exhale with relief, just as he was letting out a grateful breath. He took off the mask, and all of the people in the room watched with apprehension should he relapse. He took another experimental breath, and then another, and then another.

The interns relaxed a bit, looking to Eve for instructions. She looked over at them and she said,"I want you to be posted at the door, inside and out. I also need an EEG and an EKG in here, understood? Tape him up, get an iron lung on standby if you can. If there's none to spare, we'll borrow one from a hospital nearby." Stiffly, Eve got off of the bed and walked to the desk. She sat in a chair before groaning, "Get out of here for a minute. God, give us some air. Lord knows we need it."

She leaned back her head against the chair back, her brow knitting together as she panted. Kanda was also enjoying the luxury of breathing, as well as the ability to think clearly. Every now and again, he would look over at Eve with a solemn look, but it quickly disappeared. She had saved his life, yet again. Eve sneaked a peek before asking, "What's your name?"

Kanda gave her a 'what the hell' sort of look before he asked, "Why-"

"Answer the damn question, retard! What. Is. Your. Name." He gasped for a few seconds more before he answered, "Kanda Yuu." She nodded and asked, "How old are you?"

"Twenty-five." She nodded again, and she asked, "Now, how many fingers are there?" She held three up to his face, and Kanda answered correctly. Eve seemed thoroughly relieved, shucking her jacket off and saying, "You have no brain damage- well, not any _new _brain damage. You seem perfectly fine, save for the obvious." Kanda peered over at her. She was wearing a close-fitting tanktop, a bandage fitted over her shoulder. He frowned at her, wondering why he hadn't noticed it before- oh, wait. He'd been suffocating to death. That was a pretty good excuse for not paying attention. She walked over to him, and she said,"Open your eyes." He complied readily, and she shone a penlight in both. The interns looked in to see what new secrets their head physician may be employing, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary at all. She asked him to repeat a sentence, and he did so without a hitch.

"Normal," she muttered. She looked at Kanda for a long moment, and the lingering feeling of pressure over her mouth made her wipe the back of her arm against her lips. Kanda himself felt like doing the same thing. They'd been a bit... too close for comfort, he guessed. That was the only thing that came to mind at the moment. Seeing the interns peeking through the window, Eve sighed and walked over to the pane of glass. She stood next to the wall where they couldn't see her, and she suddenly smashed a fist at the glass, causing it to shake. The interns flew backwards over each other in surprise, and they scrambled to leave. Kanda rolled his eyes at her. She could be so immature. At least she wasn't bringing up the subject of-

"Thanks," was all he said. He shouldn't let his mind wander down that particular road. She didn't answer back, merely putting her pen in her pocket. She closed her eyes as she hovered over the chair with the jacket thrown over it and she muttered, "Don't thank me yet. You're not out of the woods. We'll keep an eye on you all night long, all right? We'll also give you a couple cc's of a sedative, as well as monitor brain function. If anything ever goes off line again, tell me or an intern immediately." Kanda could tell this wasn't all of what was on her mind. She seemed to be newly saddled with some burden on her head, and he wanted to know what it was.

"You're not done talking," he said, a demand, not a statement. Eve's hands gripped the back of the chair, her knuckles turning white. Even after suffocating for a near ten minutes while under CPR and staying semi-conscious (at least, she hoped only semi-conscious- even better if he hadn't been at all), he was still sharp as a tack at discovering things he shouldn't delve into. She sniffed with a derisive smirk, and she said, "What makes you say that?" She gathered her jacket into her arms, brushing her strands of short brown hair with her fingers. Kanda watched her leave with an air of suspicion, which felt slightly out of place considering the woman had basically breathed for him for the last ten minutes. He massaged his chest, feeling the spot where his sternum was broken, a pain he hadn't noticed until now. The adrenaline was dissipating, and it left him weary.

But he was still alert enough to notice that, as she left, a small strand of gray stood out from the rest of her hair. It was a mere touch of gray, something that would've gone unnoticed had she walked by fast enough. He watched her go by as if in slow motion. The shoulder pad of bandage slipped, showing a distinct ink mark as well as several small wounds. There must've been a larger one underneath because of the amount of blood on the bandage. He watched her carefully, his obsidian colored eyes following her as she opened the door and stepped out. The interns suddenly moved, one by the door, the other next to the door on the inside of the room, and yet another running off to go get that sedative that Eve had ordered.

He cast a slight glance at the intern on the inside of the door. The man wasn't paying too much attention, and so Kanda lay back down, turning on his side. He stared out the window beyond the giant bush of green vibrance he'd coaxed into life that sat on the sill. He felt beat, and he realized that lying on his side was a mistake as his sternum sent pain through his chest. He bit his lip, and found that it bled easily underneath his bite. He turned over on his back, and he looked over at the man in the chair. He was already asleep, and Kanda felt a bit angry. He had the need to pick up Mugen and tell this man what was what using the sheath, but decided against it. At least he couldn't bug him in his current state. Kanda sat up, touching his lips. He winced at the pain, and realized that they were slightly bruised.

Memories hailed his mind, and he tried to forget them as they assaulted his mind's eye. The memory was fresh, easy to recall. He pushed it down. He wanted to think about all of that at a later date, when he could review everything without cringing. Nevertheless, he unconsciously felt his lip, the new sting of a cut a bright starburst of pain as his fingertip touched it. He closed his eyes, kneading his eyes with the palm of his hand. So much mystery surrounded that doctor. It was worse than his own weirdness. However, as he thought about it, maybe it wasn't so weird. The Second Exorcist Program was a gruesome file full of things that most people would throw up at. Cadavers, experiments- it was a bit of an embarassment to the Vatican. It was one of the main reasons for the expiration date, Eve had explained.

"They didn't want any loose ends after the war. They got rid of the ones that they could." Kanda sat up again, finding he wasn't ever going to be able to go to sleep. He had too much to think about. He put his arms around his knees as he brought them up to his chest, staring at the far wall. What was he going to do now? Obviously, Eve had thought he could be an outpatient, but not after this episode. Kanda squeezed his eyes shut and put his forehead against his knees. Was this some sort of karma? Memories of stabbing Allen suddenly came to mind as he remembered that fight with Alma. He bit his lip, and thought better of it when the sting of the cut became apparent. He sighed heavily. There really wasn't anything they could do at the moment. An intern opened the door hesitantly, a plaster kit in her hand, no doubt to fix his broken sternum. She saw the sleeping intern, and she frowned at him. Smacking him in the face with the kit, he woke up with a splutter, and Kanda was suddenly reminded of a rather irate doctor who was no doubt hiding something important. He hated that she was saving his life and would probably hold that over his head, but what he hated more were the strange things she had to do to keep him alive. And yet it was all up to Eve.

Damn her.

* * *

The office was a little too quiet, and it made Ryan a little nervous. He'd never seen Eve in such a froth before. She was sizzling on the inside, but on the outside she was pure calm and control. What scared him was when he saw the chinks in her armor, showing the fire that was waiting for the right moment to explode. No doubt, she'd let all of this anger go on the Judo mat, but it was only a matter of time before she couldn't control it any more. He watched as she fiddled with her shoulder, kneading it. The shoulder bandage was new. She hadn't been wearing it until today, and it made him wonder.

"Ryan? Are you listening?" Ryan's head whipped around to stare at Eve as she glared at him, her eyes looking like live coals that were the wrong color. They should've been red, not brown. In fact, the color reminded him eerily of dried blood as she turned away with a disgusted 'tch.' He stuttered, "Y-y-yeah, you said I n-needed to p-pack our b-bags!" Eve continued her pacing, and she drummed her desk every chance she passed by. He watched her the way a man would watch a pacing tiger in a cage- while he himself was sitting in it. Eve was worse than a tiger, though. A tiger couldn't fire him within two minutes _and _kill him in the same time frame. Ryan swallowed dryly, and she suddenly did a flick with her finger to dismiss him.

He bolted out of his chair like a jackrabbit, heading for the door. Eve sniffed as she muttered, "Wimp." Her pacing didn't cease as she continued on her path across the floor in front of her desk. She was chewing thoughts over, trying to figure out why all this bothered her so much. As she passed by on her umpteenth circuit around, she suddenly saw the picture standing on the filing cabinet. Her eyes narrowed at it and she slammed it down. The face of the girl in front of all those scientists disappeared as the face of the picture was hidden. She stared at the downed picture a little while longer before flipping it back up. It was the only picture with people in it, the rest of them being certificates in frames. There weren't many pictures, but some were paintings that she'd hung up from patients who'd painted them for her or gave them.

Eve stared at the familiar pictures. She could tell you anything about this photo without even having to look at it. She could tell you what color dress the girl was wearing. She could tell you that the guy in the right hand corner wore glasses. She could tell you the third man from the center had forgotten his lab coat, and he was the only one wearing a suit. She could tell you that Rothschild was standing to the right of the girl, behind her in the second row of scientists. She was so concentrated on staring at the picture and its contents that she hardly heard the knock on the door. She turned around so fast, she almost got whiplash. Seeing it was only Allen, she sighed with relief. If it had been Kanda, demanding answers, she knew she'd have to wrestle him to the floor before he let up on dogging her. It seemed that no matter how she tried to hide it, everyone knew that something was wrong. Then again, hiding the fact you'd been _shot _and that it didn't bother you at allis a little dfficult.

"Yes, Allen?" She looked him over, from his darkened eyes and the rings underneath from sleepless nights, to the hair that was nearly shoulder length. His clothes were rumpled, and Link stood in the door way with him, that ever present shadow that kept notes on the poor man. She stared over at Link for a few moments, her eyes narrowing with anger, and Allen caught it. He looked back at Link, who refused to catch the eye of either of them. Allen walked in and he asked,"I saw people outside of Kanda's room and inside of it. They were interns. Is there something wrong with him?" Eve felt slightly hysterical, almost giggling. Of course there was! He was decomposing as they spoke! Didn't everyone know that by now?

"He had a bit of a setback Nothing too unordinary. We'll be working on it, no worries," she said tersely, suppressing the need to go into a corner and giggle like mad. Yes, suffocating is definitely just a 'setback.' She rubbed her forehead before heading to her desk and sitting down. Her eyes cut to Link, and she glared at him. He looked, strangely, embarrassed as Allen sat in the chair across from her desk, Link standing behind it. Allen himself looked uncomfortable as he said, "I know this sounds harsh, but it wasn't Kanda I was coming to talk about. It's me." Eve gave Allen a surprised look. The man's eyes were downcast, and she understood that Allen didn't worry about himself overmuch. However, with this kid he's got that he'd adopted, he's had to think of himself if he wanted to take care of Evan. She nodded and said, "I know what you're worried about. Don't sweat it. We'll start to fret over your wrinkles when you're fifty or so. You've still got a good twenty to thirty years left before we can even begin to think about treatment for any sort of degeneration." Allen's eyes seem to light up as he stared at Eve. That long- it was long enough to watch Evan grow up. Thirty seemed like a long time, but Allen had no doubt that it would pass by all too fast. Nevertheless, he turned his thoughts to a different topic.

"And how is Kanda doing? What about him?" he asked hopefully. Eve's expression fell as she fiddled with a pencil and said, "His is not such an easy estimate. I'm not sure. I've got his physical make-up and everything figured out from tests, testaments, and files, but I still need to know more. With his setback we've had, it's obvious that the treatment I've been giving him is slowly becoming obsolete. I'm going to try and recreate the Second Exorcist project. Mind you, I'm only making one Second Exorcist, and there will be no horrific integrations with Innocence. This will be a sort of dummy test." Allen looked confused, but Link was almost mortified. What Eve was considering was dangerous, a slap to the face of the Vatican. There had been a reason why the Second Exorcist Program had been cancelled. Kanda was only left alive through the sheer will and dumb luck of the Asian branch and the simple fact he was the only one of his kind left. Link couldn't help but stare at the patch of bandage through her doctor's coat. It was apparent she'd been playing with fire already.

"I have a theory. Perhaps through examining the creation of a Second Exorcist first hand, I may be able to discern some other form of treatment for Kanda. I'm not going to bore you with the details," she sighed nonchalantly. Allen stared at her, his eyes big and round before Link said, "I think we should leave Ms. Rothschild to her work, Allen." Walker looked up at him with a miffed look, wondering why Link was, out of nowhere, treating him as if he were an annoying child at a 'grown-ups' talk. Eve stared at Link and said, "I'm not all that busy. However, if that's what you want, I'm not going to force you." Link winced at the choice of words, and Allen stood up. He was uncertain of what was going on, but it seemed that Rothschild had a bone to pick with Link or the CROW faction of the Vatican.

She gave them a small finger wave goodbye. As they went, Link whispered something in Allen's ear, and the white-haired Exorcist gave Link a perplexed glance. He eyed Eve over his shoulder, before leaving swiftly. Link closed the door behind Allen, standing there. Eve stared at Link's back, noting that his shoulders were bunched up and he looked rather strained. She leaned back in her chair, looking lazily like some sort of big feline waiting for its opponent to make the first move. Link finally turned around and stood in front of her desk, looking down imperiously.

"What you are doing is-"

"Stupid, ignorant, sure to get you killed- should I go on?" Eve finished for him, cocking her head to the side arrogantly. Link shut his mouth, and he fumed at her silently. Despite his cold demeanor and general air of disdain towards most of the Order, he did care about the people within it, including Kanda Yuu. Despite the fact that the Japanese Exorcist and himself had never had much of a relationship with one another, he'd gotten to know about him through Allen's rant and musings about the man, and he'd concluded that, though outwardly he was a repressing individual, he was good at heart and did the right thing for the most part. To know that his only chance for survival, which was sitting across the desk from him, was risking her life in a way that seemed incredibly deliberate was infuriating.

"You have to stay alive, Eve. I can't stress that enough. He needs you-" Eve cut him off there with a snappy, dead retort. "He doesn't need me."

Link stared at Eve with an unwavering gaze.

"How so?"

She sighed and leaned forwards, putting her elbows on the table and steepling her fingers together under her chin. She looked Link straight in the eye over the tops of her reading glasses. She slowly said, "He doesn't need me becuase I have interns who are in intensive study right now and will most likely become better at this than I am at present." She leaned back in her chair slowly, and they stared at each other for several tense seconds. Link continued, "You're still risking your life and the lives of your coworkers." Eve shrugged her shoulders and said, "They know the risks." Link lifted one eyebrow.

"Do they? You've told them everything?" Eve's eyes narrowed. He knew the answer to that question. Link drummed his fingers on the table, breaking his gaze to watch his fingers as they moved over and over in the same pattern. Eve finally reached over and grabbed them, stopping their rhythm. Link smirked. He knew a lot of things about Eve personally that would make a person wonder about what sort of relationship he had with the doctor.

"You'll think about it...won't you? If you do this, at the very least try to cover it up." Eve scoffed as she let go of his fingers. She rolled her eyes and said, "If I cover it up, it makes it look like I have something to hide, now doesn't it?" Link's face was blank, but a very small smile crossed his face for a bare moment. He turned on heel and walked for the door. It closed with a snap of finality that rang through the silence, and Eve looked down at the floor while biting her forefinger in thought.

"I hate it when he's right."

* * *

_Earlier That Morning_

Eve shook as she stood in the forests, knowing that she'd been found out like a rabbit flushed from its burrow. She swallowed her fear as she turned back around to face the man in the felt hat and his gun. So, it seemed her past wanted to catch up with her? Oh, they'd do more than catch up. She'd carry it forwards with her. Let's see how much it enjoys being in the light of the present.

"Of course. The Vatican themselves can't kill, but as long as they send a lackey..." she snarled at him, though her legs felt like water. She felt like begging at his feet, pleading for mercy. Her hair whipped around her head as the wind blew past her face, and she swallowed. The Texan gave a laugh, a rolling sound that boiled in the air. He shook his head at her, tapping the barrel of his gun against his leg. He leveled it again and he said, "Shoot, I didn't ever think I'd have to shoot a lady. Don't know what's wrong with them red coats. You're just a barrel a' monkeys to play with, darlin'." He looked down his barrel, squeezing an eye shut. Eve stared defiantly, her heart hammering her chest open in a million little pieces. She knew that if she could've been given the opportunity to confess all of those sins, all of the lies, all of the things she'd hidden to those she cared for, to those that depended on her for their very lives, she would've. But she would have no chance. This would be it. An ending to her life would be inevitable. She just hadn't thought she'd go this way.

Would it have been better the other way instead?

The gun shot rang out, and Eve felt a horrifying sense of absolute knowledge. She knew what was waiting for her when she died. She knew exactly what it was. She'd thought long and hard. Could this be the reason why she worked so hard? Were all of her deeds selfish in heart? All of it, was it for herself or for them? Was she trying to atone? So many questions she'd never be able to answer to herself. She stared at the Texan, waiting for the moment when her knees would buckle, her eyes would roll into her head, and her heart would stop beating for the last and final time.

The time continued to move in a lethargic crawl, and she realized that nothing had connected. The bullet had, miraculously, left. The man looked at his gun, clicking the chamber. He set the safety and holstered. Eve felt a defiance creep into her. What was going on here? This didn't make any sense! Damn it all, at least if he'd shot her and ended her then and there, some semblance of life would've still been there! This strange indignance seemed to blot out all of Eve's former terror, and she shouted, "Well? What the hell are you waiting for?" The Texan took out a pack of cigarettes, and he lit one. He took a long drag before letting a stream of gray smoke evaporate into the morning air. He sighed ecstatically, and he said, "Well, you've got friends up there somewhere, Missie. Them reds? At least one of them's sorta iffy. He told me, 'shoot her if you can- keep her still if you can't'. Lady, I think you got one heck of a wound right there 'n that's all I need to do. Shootin' ladies weren't in the job description."

Eve frowned. Someone had... pardoned her? This was getting weirder and weirder. She swallowed hard and asked loudly, "Then why do they want me alive?" The Texan slid his gaze over her like a gun swooping in to zero on a target. She felt his glance with the hairs on the back of her neck as they stood up soundly to attention in response. He let out another string of smoke, watching it disappear to join its brethren in the clouds.

"There're some pretty sick people in yer ward, darlin'. If them reds were to git rid o' you right off before y'run yer course, I don't think them'd make it very long without ye. It's nice to know them reds who sign the paycheck know what they're talkin' 'bout. T'least someone's got a brain among 'em," he said, his words curving around his cigarette. Eve stared, her shoulder bleeding profusely. She swallowed again, her throat feeling suspiciously dry.

"So that means you'll be leaving me alone," she stated. The Texan had a twinkle in his eye as he said, "Maybe."

"And that means that I can do my work- in peace."

"Maybe."

There was a tense pause. The air was full of the rustle of leaves and nothing more. Eve felt her brown hair claw at her face as it whipped in her eyes and her nose. The Texan held on to his hat as a gale swept over the forest for just a moment. Eve hissed as she held her shoulder, the pain setting in. The Texan watched her as she cautiously started to walk past him. He tipped his hat to her as she walked past with a wary look. The Texan smiled and said, "Nice doin' business with you, darlin'. Hope y'all have a pleasant mornin'." She narrowed her eyes, her fingers shaking as she protectively covered her shoulder. She shivered as she walked, feeling the Texan's eyes bore into her back as she entered the hospital.

This wasn't over yet. No way in hell.


	9. Forbidden Knowledge

The world of dreams is a peculiar place. Impossible things are not discredited, and the only time you think something strange is happening is right before you wake up. All things collaborate together in a dream—memories, thoughts, fears, loves. They can tell you what your most precious desire is, or what your greatest fear might be. Worse yet, they can tell you nothing at all.

Water. There was so much water in this dream. He was swimming through it, hardly having to move a muscle to glide swiftly through a liquid wonderland. His hair was free floating, and his body felt alive for the first time in a very long time. He couldn't believe how he felt. This couldn't be real. It felt that way, though. No pain, no worries, just the simple pleasure of gliding along in water.

But there were sharks in the waters. They weren't real sharks—no, these were sharks that were invisible to the naked eye and mind. They nipped at his heels softly, with rubber teeth that left no visible mark other than the sensation of being bitten. As much as he tried to see these sharks, he found that they disappeared the minute he turned around to look at them. After a while, he ignored them, unbeknownst that their soft-toothed biting were leaving scars deeper than he would think.

This became apparent as the landscape changed ever so gradually. The water was teeming with loneliness. The sea was becoming cold. It was darkening, and there seemed to be walls around him. Since the dream began, he'd not felt any discomfort, but now he could feel a pain rising in his chest and throat. His lungs felt fit to burst, and for the first time he looked up. The rays of light shone through the water with a glittering promise, and he swam up towards the surface. Air would be greatly appreciated at the moment, and he couldn't wait.

But, no matter how he tried, his feet seemed shackled with heavy weights. His arms felt leaden, and he couldn't reach the sun. He struggled against this new onset of lethargy, and he saw silver globules of air escape from his lips. He was drowning, slowly, down and down. He kicked and pulled against the water, but he soon found that he'd fallen to the bottom of the sea, landing against a hard bed of concrete.

Concrete? No, it should be sand! This was not a sea—it had ceased to be so a while ago. He spread out his arms as he kneeled against the concrete unsteadily, and he looked back up. Walls… walls were closing in on him. He could hear nothing but the grinding noise of walls closing around him. With one last spurt of energy, he kicked off of the floor of concrete towards the light of the surface, trying to beat the walls that were growing around him.

As he swam, though, something tugged at his feet, and he looked down. His feet were shackled now with chains. The faster he swam, the closer the walls became, and he realized that the chains were attached to the walls. He was a jailer of his own making. This thought in mind as he looked up longingly at the surface, he began to drift down. He sat on the floor of the sea, the walls turning gray and the water to a watery pale-blue as streaming ribbons caressed his face with ever gentle strokes. His dark eyes wandered the surface, his strength failing him as he suffocated.

The nearer he came to that darkness that seemed to be falling over the surface, the more a strange inner defiance welled up like a bleeding wound. Suddenly angry, he kicked off and tried for the surface again, swimming fast and hard. He would not die here! He would save himself, not wait for another to take him out of the water. He kicked off of the walls towards the surface, his chains dragging behind him, two snakes at his heels waiting to reclaim him. The surface, so near he can touch it, circled lazily as if undecided and flirtatious. The walls closed so near, he could feel their pressure as his fingers were the first to break the surface—

But it was not so. The surface was nothing more than a mere illusion. It was glass, a promise hidden behind a wall of sarcasm and false hope. He frowned, hitting the glass with a fist. It shook but did not break. He beat against it, flailing like a sea turtle trapped in a glass tank, unwilling to believe there were boundaries. The glass held again and again, almost seeming to shake with laughter as he drifted down like a fallen leaf. As he looked past the glass, he was amazed to see a familiar face staring back at him. There he was, just standing there with a stupid grin on his face, just like the first time he'd seen him. How strange it was to think that he was the younger and Alma the older.

The concrete floor was suddenly much nearer. The walls were not just walls. This was not the sea or a semblance of it. It was a tank, a place of both entrapment and freedom from the world. He shook as he let his fingers slide across the glass, gasping words with accented silver orbs to be let free, to escape. Alma only smiled at him and waved, and behind him the scientists walked by without so much as a glance.

And then suddenly, so suddenly as almost not to be noticed, his vantage point was switched so that he was on the outside looking in. He opened his eyes to see something different. In that tank, the one where he knew instinctively he'd reemerged a new person was another. They were only half-formed, hardly ready at all to meet the real world. To make matters more surreal, the face it carried was familiar yet strange. The lines of the face, the angle of the nose, those cheekbones, and that snarky mouth, all of it was familiar and foreign at the same time. Where had he seen this visage before?

The small thing stirred inside of the tank, and Kanda idly wondered if that was what he had looked like in his own tank under that thin pane of glass. Come to think of it, he'd never had glass over his tank. Why was there a sheet of it on this one? Why restrict the release of the thing inside the glass? Dreamy questions flittered by like silver moths, too quick to catch but just slow enough to catch a glimpse. He frowned as the dream took on a new tone. The tank was suddenly lit inside with a green, ambient light, and the being floating inside the tank set into the floor opened its eyes.

Kanda's own widened in recognition. Shaky hands went out to touch the glass window, the one thing separating them both, and those eyes… looked so strange set in such a young face with that accusing stare…

"Your fault," it said. "It's your fault." Its lips never moved, but he could hear what it was saying. The thing was growing before his very eyes as hair flowed down into a luscious wave, and the body of the being in the tank began to grow and mature. Even so, those eyes never stopped looking at him, and they continued to stay the same.

"Your fault. Your fault that you are my pain," it said, this time its lips moving with the words. Kanda wheeled backwards away from the tank as it raised a hand to smash it, blood and glass sprinkling across the floor in such a dreamlike quality as that he could see every drop, every chip, every spray of crimson. He tripped over his own feet (something he most certainly would never have done in waking life), and he fell back, hitting his head against the cold stone of the floor. He could feel something warm leak out of the side of head where it had come in contact with the floor, and he could do nothing but stare as the thing clambered its way out of the tank.

The being stood over Kanda, dripping and accusatory, eyes boring down into him. It slowly walked towards him, and the nightmare quality of the dream took darker and darker turns as Kanda realized he was frozen to the floor. Defiantly, he tried his hardest to sit up and take a stand, find his sword, beat the crap out of the thing walking towards him.

Except it wasn't a thing. It was a woman. And those eyes continued to stare at him as every step took her closer to him. Kanda glared back defiantly, but a stirring of unease rippled into the pit of his stomach. The woman's floor-length brown hair covered her completely, but those eyes were left. Those sharp eyes were so harsh and so blindingly captivating…

"You are the cause of my pain. Because I will be dead before I know it," it said, the voice resonating hollowly in the stone room. Suddenly her eyes left Kanda, and he could move again. He stood up quickly, gaining his bearings. His eyes caught movement behind the woman, and he saw what her own eyes were fixated on.

He was struck in awe. The clack of feet on the floor resounded as hollowly as the woman's voice. He could see now why the woman was staring so directly. Eve's face was devoid of emotion as she walked up to the woman, and they stood nose to nose. Finally, Kanda understood what it was that had rattled him so much. The woman from the tank looked almost exactly like Eve. They were the same height, with the same color hair, and the same facial build. Everything was the same.

Except for those eyes. Those eyes were piercing coal black, and Kanda knew that they didn't belong to that face. They belonged to his. Both of them looked at him, the contrast between them stark and subtle at the same time. Very suddenly, Eve spun the woman around, put her elbow around her neck, and pulled with a quick, sharp snap. Kanda felt himself jolt slightly as he watched the woman from the tank fall. She landed back into a tank with a hardly a splash, slipping into the water as if it had swallowed her whole. Eve strode over to Kanda, and he found he couldn't look away from her. She'd killed a person, a new person at that, in completely cold blood. What was this? Wasn't she supposed to sanctify life, nurture it, cherish it? Why had she thrown it away so readily?

"Our pain was conceived long before our birth, Kanda. You of all people should know that," Eve said in monotone, those eyes so strangely blank.

"It's better this way." Blood issued from Eve's mouth as she very suddenly fell to her knees. Irrationally, Kanda stepped forward with a cry to catch her as she fell, but already she'd succumbed to the watery depths of the tank that had swallowed her predecessor. He stared in, expecting to at least find a body or two, and yet inside… there was nothing. When he looked up, his eyes felt pained and tightened as he saw Alma wave from across the room. He stood up slowly, staring at Alma. He had always been such a goofball, but… now… how…?

"It's better this way," Alma said with a bright smile as he backed away from Kanda. As the older man began to follow his counterpart, he abruptly stopped. He frowned as he looked around. The scene had changed yet again, but it felt strangely the same. It was a different light, that was all. This was the same place at a different time, but why was he-? He suddenly saw Eve washing her clothes in one of the pools, clad in a slim white gown that he'd only seen those in the terminally ill ward wear. The water that slid off of her clothes was pink in color, bloody. She didn't notice him as he walked behind her to look into the water and see their reflections side by side.

Eve suddenly said, "It's better this way." Her hands stopped as she lifted garment, and Kanda could see that it was his own shirt she'd been washing. Swiftly, with a resounding splash, she dropped it into the water and it promptly vanished. He stared at her with a bewildered expression. This was… incredibly surreal. How was she even here? He'd seen her die, and always that phrase, over and over—

His eyes flew open. It took him a moment to realize that he was in his room, hooked to a machine that softly let out a rhythmic beep every so often. The ceiling above him was deceptively plain, as was the rest of the room save for the incredibly decorated table that was being slowly devoured by flowers, candy, cards, and the like. He wasn't quite sure when such an enormous amount of sweets had amassed, but he was pretty sure he knew who'd put it together, or at least directed everything.

It'd break the poor, white-haired Exorcist's heart, but he was going to have to tell Allen that sweets really weren't his thing. Ever. Even on his death bed.

Turning his head, he could see past the fluffy amalgamation of tissue paper, cellophane, and other miscellaneous well-wishing tokens, his massive shrub of greenery thrived under the predawn illumination of false sunlight. He propped himself up on his elbows, wondering idly to himself about that stupid dream. To be honest, he'd never taken much stock into dreams—not only were they useless, but they were also a rarity. When his dreams did happen to make an appearance, he normally disregarded them, as they had meaninglessly mundane scenarios that were probably the dredges of memories from a time before is own.

His thoughts were redirected from there to his current predicament. He looked down at himself, and he almost cringed. He was thin. In fact, he was so thin that he hardly made a depression on the bed. He was bony all over, though it wasn't like he'd not been bony before. That'd been when he was hardly nine, though. He'd grown out of bony straight into muscular. After weeks of inactivity at the hands of that evil witch, Eve, he had been reduced back to bony again. His skin was pale, and the breaks under the skin were easy to see. He had all of the deficiencies of an old man, almost resorting to glasses now that his eyesight was beginning to worsen.

Other, more pressing ailments had assailed him over the past few weeks as well as he continued to progress into a steady decline. It was one of the periodic declines that always happened, which usually involved problems with breathing and incredibly crippling stomach aches along with headaches that could bring down a race horse on top of joint deterioration. On the days where he couldn't breath, couldn't speak, eat, read, or anything at all, some of the nurses took pity and went to tell Eve. And, amazingly, she did something to alleviate the pain, boredom, and futility of it all. He continued to wonder why she chose to read to him whenever he went into those hazes made of codeines and other sedatives that kept him just under the level of bearable agony.

She'd certainly never showed much favor to him, and their relationship was more than rocky—it was more like the side of a sheer cliff. Relationship could be considered an incredibly loose terms concerning the two. However, they'd seemed to have managed to figure out a system of insults that resulted in neither of them causing undue harm to the other. Someway, some how, they'd managed to 'cohabitate' in a sense. The nurses and janitors, needless to say, were thrilled. No more blood to clean, no more mugs to pick up, and no more distracting shouting matches. Though, sometimes, when Kanda looked at Eve, he seemed to look straight through her. It was like the top veneer of seemingly sadistic, harsh, intolerant woman that seemed to be there every second of the day like an exoskeleton was slowly being peeled off layer by layer through Kanda's careful observations. He knew next to nothing about Eve, about what she liked or disliked. He didn't know what pushed her buttons. That was going to have to change.

But what he saw underneath that skeleton was something he hadn't expected. He'd thought there'd be gratuitous amounts of recklessness—of which, there was. He'd anticipated anxiety—this frame of work required it, practically. He'd also predicted to see some sort of emptiness, a hollow part of her—and he'd found that too. But the real kicker was that he saw, of all things, fear. There was an all-consuming fear inside of her, in the way that she walked with such controlled, clipped strides. There was a fear in her as she picked up a bottle, or she plunged a needle into skin. He'd seen her work steadily on a patient without a hitch, not a single cell out of place, and there'd not been any fear in her then—it was only afterwards the he saw it shine through like a sickly yellow flame behind rice paper. She was fragile, though this was something he'd expected. But she was fragile in ways he couldn't comprehend. She was so strong, yet ready to break…

He thought back to his dream, how she'd easily dispatched the young woman who'd crawled out of the pool. Eve's eyes, in his dream, had been empty. That hollowness wasn't uncommon among the soldiers of the Black Order who'd fought against the Earl. A specific amount of empty had dripped in to each of the Exorcists in one form or another, but combating that emptiness was like fighting a separate war itself. Allen had the same look, and so did Lenalee. Lavi was the worst, because it was so clearly written on his face that the rigors of war and human hurt had been beaten into him to the point where the emptiness was merely looming, engraved in his head. Eve sported the same hollow look, that one that protected yet killed at the same time. He suddenly wondered how, exactly, Eve had come by that sad, sorry emptiness that filled every warrior who'd ever held a sword, gun, bow, or weapon. Eve was a doctor—that mean compassion was needed, and yet she sealed herself off with that emptiness. She'd stopped that contagion of pain by fighting it with an immunity to emotion, and Kanda realized that he was afraid of her for it.

She was willing to do anything to reach her goal. Those who bore that emptiness strove to do whatever it took, no matter the burden, no matter the loss, no matter the pain—

"Our pain was conceived long before our birth, Kanda. Of all people, you should know that."

That one thought puzzled him. However, upon finding himself puzzling over the meaning, of all things, a dream he immediately ceased that train of thought. True, dreams could be revealing, but for the most part they were befuddling red herrings that threw people off course. He couldn't dare trust his dreams, because… because… He thought about the dreams he used to have, of the fields and faces of people he'd never met, of sights he'd never seen, of places he'd never been. At least, never physically. Perhaps he should put that on his agenda—to find and see all the places and people he'd first encountered in his original life before this unnatural second one started.

A stomach cramp shot through his midsection, and he nearly doubled over. However, he refrained from doing so. He'd already hurt himself twice doing that, and he'd prefer not to revisit that mistake again. Eve's healing prowess only stretched so far, and she'd even razzle-dazzled him with a bit of illegal spellwork to fix crushed ribs that had succumbed to the strength of the muscle contractions. It was amazing how easy it was for a body to slowly rip itself apart. Kanda swallowed several times before the cramp passed. No wonder he'd woken up. He reached over to his bedside, where a host of pills and medication were stowed in containers that were clearly labeled in both Japanese and English with bold print a couple of inches high. He took one of them and gave it a sardonic look. The giant writing hadn't been there before. No doubt, that was courtesy of Eve and her amazing ability to annoy the hell out of him without even having to be physically present to do it. She was making fun of him as he sat there twisting off the cap.

Which adamantly refused to come off. Kanda gripped it harder, twisting it firmly. Suddenly, there was a keen 'shrrrp' as Kanda felt something come off of his hand. He frowned for a moment as he stared at his hand, and the rather large line of flesh that had sheared off from the force applied to the stubborn bottle. It took him a moment to realize that he was in pain. After that, however, the pain asserted itself as right at home in his hand, making his eyes water and several rather unpublishable words escape his mouth as he held onto his hand with the other at the wrist. Staring at it, he got a good look.

It was bleeding, but it didn't seem deep. It just happened to hurt quite a lot. Kanda would've thought he'd be used to this type of abuse by now, but he obviously had forgotten his own strength this time, and was now paying for it with a good piece of three by half inch strip of skin. It was, in fact, lying on the bed in his lap, and he lifted it up with a macabre sense of fascination. He winced as the action elicited a rather painful remark from the wound, and he got out of bed stiffly. Of all things he should be at age twenty-five, stiffly shouldn't be one of them. It was an embarrassment, shuffling around like he was old Zhu's age…

As he ran his hand underneath the cold tap in the bathroom, Kanda was aware of something. The water, as it ran, had a sort of meditative sound, and he seemed to calm a bit. He looked up in the mirror, and he nearly jumped back at the face staring at him. He had almost not recognized himself in that instant, his eyes flashing widely as he took in his visage.

His hands shook as he took a paper towel and wrapped it around his hand as an impromptu bandage. The nurses would fix it when everybody woke up. This was… this was appalling. He stretched the skin of his cheek with a disbelieving look. He'd hardly been a man of vain tendencies, but this was just ridiculous. Blue veins stood out on his cheeks, and his face was pallid as a sheet of paper. His hair was darker midnight than ever, though that might be in due fact because of the new, pale shade of his skin. His eyes looked incredibly large in his stark white face, glaring out like two onyx disks. Streaks of silver lined his hair, silver ore through black marble. As he stared in the mirror, he thought about the woman in his dream—

Again, he had to reign in his thoughts. This had to stop. That dream had meant absolutely nothing, and yet he was acting like it did. It was highly irrational, the ravings of a superstitious lunatic, of which Kanda certainly was not. He hadn't ever given a dream this much attention. Why was this happening now? Perhaps it was his brain—he wouldn't be surprised if Eve told him that it was pickling in its own cerebral juices.

And, again, he wondered just how long he had. One never thought of their proximity to their end until they were incredibly close to it. So close, in fact, it always seemed just a mere armslength away. The proof was in the mirror across from him, and he knew it. He needed out of here. He had to do something. He wanted to feel like he was actually _alive, _not stuck here wasting like some old geezer inside of an old folk's home. Was this how Zhu had felt? Had he been confined like this in his advanced age? At least he'd had time to get used to it. Chances were, if Kanda got too comfortable with doing nothing, he'd end up doing nothing until he died.

Suddenly inflamed with the thought of being stuck here, of all places, he walked out. His footsteps were soundless, despite the shuffle of his feet. Invisible shackles now strung his feet together, as it were these days. His joints were beginning to stiffen as they continued to deteriorate. They were one of the few parts of the body that didn't replenish themselves continuously like skin. Once joints started to go, they were gone. It was just another ailment to add to a long list, one that Kanda tried to push to the back of his mind. He'd taken his health for granted it seemed.

The minute he stepped out the doors of the hospital, it felt like he'd been transported to a different world all together. Instead of the white walls he'd been looking at, he was staring into greenery. In lieu of the smell of disinfectant, decay, and sickness, there was a verdant smell of plant life and soil. They were aromas he knew well enough, and probably had been unconsciously pursuing with his growth of the 'Mutant' on his window sill.

Very suddenly, sounds of shouting reached his ears. He frowned, too aware that he must look absolutely ridiculous in the stupid paper gown they always made him wear. Just another thing to threaten the nurses into getting him: real clothes. The sounds of an argument slowly came closer and closer, and he realized he knew those voices. One of them, at the least, was very familiar, a voice he heard just about every day for the past couple of months. The second one was less familiar, but still ringing with that faint tone of nostalgia.

"Why do you do this, Eve? What are you even here for? You don't even like people!"

"Hey, shut up, I like people just fine."

"As if. You could care less whether they live or die."

"And if I do? It's a job, and I do it well. What's that to you?"

"Because you're working yourself into the ground for something you don't even believe in."

Kanda hid among the trees, easily blending in. He'd had years of practicing invisibility, and he wasn't beyond listening in. What was all this about? Who was Eve speaking to?

"Hmm, strange that you suddenly take an interest now. You never seemed to mind before." Yep, definitely Eve. There was that sarcastic, acid tone to that voice that only she could muster. He almost felt sorry for the guy. _Almost. _Still, Kanda didn't understand what any of this had to do with anything. They were talking about Eve's choice of career—but who would want to talk about Eve's vocation in the first place? She seemed like such a solitary person. Then again, so did Kanda, but he still had his circle of friends. Perhaps she had someone who cared- however little, that is. Anyone who actually liked Eve either had to be just as nasty as she was or nicer than Allen. And at the moment, it didn't sound like the latter.

Kanda was aware that he was snooping at the moment, but he didn't really care. He'd been cooped up for too long, and he hadn't done anything for a while. This was the time to change all that. He peeked out from behind his tree with narrowed eyes, hoping that these guys didn't have that innate sixth sense that told them someone was watching. Sure enough, who ever it was continued to speak without reserve.

"Look, you could be working on other patients. What about Jamie? How about Sanders? Why are you working on this one guy so hard while there are others that _can _be saved are dying? You're showing favoritism, and you know it." Suddenly, this didn't sound so much like a conversation about her job, but more about who she was working on. A strange change of topic, considering the man's statement before hand about her not liking people and caring less for whether they lived or not.

"I thought you said I didn't like people."

"You don't. All I'm saying is, your time's being used up for no apparent reason with him. He's beyond saving, and you know it." Suddenly, Kanda wondered who they were talking about. It was definitely one of Eve's patients. Someone who she spent a lot of time and effort on. He only knew three other patients under Eve's care, but there were plenty more than just that. Was it one of them? Who was beyond saving?

"He is not beyond saving."

"Yes, it is. You know why he's deteriorating like this?"

"No-"

"You do. You just won't admit it."

"Fine, Mister Know-All, tell me whatever the hell it is. You're the lawyer." There was a pause, and Kanda leaned more outwards. He could see the back of the man's head. He was blond and gray, while Eve's darker brown hair practically blended in with everything else. She wouldn't have been bad as an Exorcist. Kanda had had that thought in mind many times. Tough, unwilling to yield, crafty. Of course, all those things could easily get you killed as keep you alive, but it was better to have those qualities rather than snivelling, easily distracted, and annoying as hell. It was a pity that she wasn't one of them, though with the war over there was little reason for her to be an Accommodator.

The moonlight filtered through the trees, dappling the back of the man's black coat while spraying specks of white all over Eve's grayish looking lab coat. He couldn't see the man's face, though he didn't need to. He already knew he was a whiny, argumentative person, which probably meant he had the face of a rat, all pinched up and unsatisfied. Eve, he already knew well enough. She was, no doubt, very irritated, her left eyebrow twitching like it always did whenever she got extremely angry. He sweatdropped, thinking of how many times he'd thought of following her around the hospital with a tally sheet, just to see how many times that eyebrow twitched in a day. It could get _really _boring in a hospital, obviously, if he was thinking of going through with such a childish venture.

"Because it's a natural process. He was supposed to die. You can't go against nature. You said it yourself; he has a deadline."

Kanda frowned. There was that feeling of intuition at the back of his mind, and it suddenly clicked. They were talking about him. They were talking about how he couldn't be saved. That he was always meant to die. For some reason, he felt a pang in his heart as he thought about his dream, of Eve looking at him with those sad eyes and saying, "It's better this way." Was it better that way? That he just give up and give in? There was still that part of him that rebelled against the thought of dying so slowly, so agonized and drawn out. He averted his eyes to the leaves underneath his feet, and he realized that it was fall. The wind chilled him as he closed his eyes, suddenly torn.

"I'm not going to just give up on him. If you think that, you're an idiot, Gavin," she spat out, and he snapped his head to look up at her. Gavin was quiet for a moment before saying, "Are you doing this because if you give up on him, it means giving up on yourself?" There was a period of silence before Eve answered.

"Yes." Kanda frowned. What did he mean by that? Was he talking about Eve's emotional association to him? He had so many questions now, and they buzzed around in his head like an incessant humming, something he couldn't seem to quiet. He gripped the tree in front of him, his fingers digging into the bark and getting chips under the nails. All of this... it made no sense.

"All right... if you're going to go this way, how the hell are you going to save him? You've tried everything in your arsenal."

"That's what you think. I still have tricks up my sleeve."

"Trust me when I say that I don't doubt that in the least. Care to share?"

"What if I say no? I'd rather not share that out here in the open air. The wind has ears, you know."

Kanda frowned. What couldn't she say here out in the middle of a forest in front of a hospital? Who was there to listen? Then again... he was here. Who was to say there weren't other eavesdroppers in the trees, around the hospital, even in the ground if they went so far? Of course, that also brought up the question of who would want to eavesdrop on the two.

"Fine, be a stiff lip about it. Still, wanna at least give me a hint so I can cover you backside when you get thrown into the fire?"

"Who says I'm going to be thrown in the fire?"

"Babe, are you really asking that question?" This banter was beginning to bore Kanda, but he couldn't move away. He knew that if he did, he'd make more noise than he would want, and that would arouse suspicions. He'd rather not be found, at least not yet. Besides, that would also lead to Eve asking questions he'd rather leave unanswered as well as a probable injection of sedative to keep him asleep later. His eyes narrowed as Eve deliberated, the silence stretching as owls hooted in the night, the moonlight filtering through the trees and giving everything garish casts of dense white and blue. His own skin was raised with the cold, the veins standing out against the pale skin as he continued to stand there and listen.

"I'm going to do something that the Vatican is definitely not going to like."

"You do that on a daily basis," Gavin said to her in an exasperated voice.

Eve snorted derisively, and she added, "Something that's more experimental than anything else. More... research. Reproduction, I guess you could call it." He could almost hear the smirk in her voice, and Kanda's eyes widened. What? Reproduction? What does that have anything to do with research?

"Sounds... suggestive. I know the Vatican isn't exactly one to sanction-"

"Hold your horses, big boy, don't get ahead of yourself now." So, this wasn't like anything normal that had to do with reproduction. Still, that hardly gave him any clues. He cringed just thinking about it. What else could she mean?

"Wait a second. You're thinking of restarting-"

"I'm not _restarting _it. I'm _recreating _it. And I'm only going to do it once. Maybe twice, just to get it right."

"Are you trying to tell me that you're just going to stick him in _another _body? Like that'll help. They discontinued-"

"For a lawyer, you've got a pretty big mouth." It was evident that she didn't want him to talk any longer about the subject, but the damage was already done. To anybody that knew about the Artificial Disciples Project, these words were practically a nightmare in the making. Kanda's eyes widened as he suddenly thought about the dream he'd had. The Second Exorcist Project... bringing back the dead... All those failures and all of those problems, to go through all of that again just to be able to fight and live- and for what? So he could do it all over again? No! No, no, no, no, there was no way in _hell _he was going to go back into a tank, wake up in a nine year old's body, and expect to live out his life for the express purpose of destruction. He'd been there, done that, and wish he could mindwipe himself so he could just forget all of it and make it seem like one big nightmare. He narrowed his eyes as Eve suddenly turned to Gavin, the lawyer.

"The redcoats up in the big house are already mad at you."

"Yeah, I know that. But I've got to try."

"For you, or for him?"

"For me. And maybe for him, just to kill two birds with one stone."

Kanda frowned as Eve brushed past Gavin and started walking back to the hospital. Gavin looked back with a rather wistful look. _Go ahead and try, buddy. Make my day, _Kanda thought. What he wouldn't give to see Eve punch somebody in the face. She was the Ice Queen around here, and she ruled with an iron, cold fist. He slinked off into the darkness again, trying to keep quiet as he headed back to his room so he could reflect on everything that had happened. He had a lot to think about. And suddenly, dreams didn't sound quite so stupid.

* * *

Lavi looked around for a moment cautiously. He was dressed in coveralls, and a hat sat on top of his head. His headband had been left at home, and he'd switched out his usual black eyepatch for a white bandage type. Anything to change what he looked like, really. He wasn't supposed to be here, actually, but there were just things he had to know. This section of the Order was supposedly only available to the higher-ups, but Lavi had done enough favors that he could actually play a few strings to their tune. He pulled out a key from his pocket, walking towards an ominously average door that led to a portion of the library even the Bookmen weren't allowed to enter. Inserting the key into the lock, he waited tensely for the sounds of klaxon alarms, loud buzzing, anything that might show signs of danger or discovery. Seeing as all was stiller than a mortuary in the middle of the night, he turned the key. It let out a satisfying _snick _and he smiled as he pushed the door in quietly.

And it squeaked.

He winced as it continued to make that annoying sound. Obviously, it hadn't been used in a while, and it wasn't kept in good repair. Exaggeratedly slow, he pushed the door open, wincing with every single squeak that invaded the night air. It was pretty late, and no one should even be up at this godawful hour, but Lavi could never be too sure. He tiptoed into the room, suddenly vaguely reminiscent of a cartoon villain that rubbed his hands evilly as he plotted devious deeds. Looking around, he saw that there was hardly anything on these shelves. It wasn't surprising- these were the Order's 'black files', things that were best left in the dark. He walked, his steps resounding on the tile as he looked among the files to see if they were in any particular order or if he was going to have to dig through all of it for what he had in mind. Seeing that, for the most part, it was all chronological, he had to hold in a squeal of glee. Yes! This was perfect! Even if he didn't know the name, he could just look up the year! And it couldn't be hard; after all, he knew Eve's age. Or, at least, her assumed age.

Though he'd found hardly anything inside of Eve's office, he _had _managed to find something pertaining to Richard Rothschild. The man had been an absolute fanatic, from Lavi had read. He had been trying some very... rather strange things. Most of it had to do with the development of the human body, and he'd contributed greatly to the Second Exorcist Program, if a bit indirectly. He had looked exactly like the lead scientist in the picture that was on Eve's filing cabinet, if a bit older. And now he was wondering what the tank in the background had been for... What ever it was, it had been funded by the Vatican, and they didn't want anyone to know about it either. All or most of the files had been destroyed, but there were still a few pieces of the puzzle left for him to go through. He frowned as he found the right one he was looking for. It was covered in dust, and it was labeled for a date nearly fifteen years prior. He stared at it, wondering if this was the right one. Opening it up, he saw that it had a large stamp marking it 'CLASSIFIED INFORMATION.' Though this looked rather formidable and rather threatening, Lavi plowed through it. Ha! As if a simple red badge of important looking words could ever stop him.

As he flipped through it, his eyes slowly widened. Words may not scare him... but these pictures were very gruesome. They were horrific completely and utterly. It was barbaric. He frowned as he stared at all of the photographs of bodies that looked like they'd been horribly mutilated. As he continued to go through the file, he started to realize something horribly wrong with all of the pictures. Of those with faces left in tact, the bodies looked exactly like Eve, though they were much younger and much fuller. He felt his stomach turn as he flipped faster through the files. After seeing nearly twenty pictures, he dropped the file on a table, covered his mouth, and he ran to a trashcan. Promptly, he emptied the contents of his stomach into the can. Wiping his mouth off, he cast his gaze back into the direction of the file. His hands shook as he headed back over. He had seen... seen so many things in this life, but _this _was inhumane and disgusting.

They were pictures of young women, all with the same face (for those that had faces), all with the same expression of twisted horror and pain. The bodies were mangled, disjointed, and bloodied to the point that they could not be recognized in some of the photos. Legs were broken, blood vessels burst in banana-peel styles against white flesh dotted with purple hemhorrages. Eyes were filled with blood. Faces looked like they'd literally been melted, the skin wasted off in some places and too thick in others. Hair was in patches, pieces of scalp were missing, and organs showed through paper-thin epidermis in a horrifying display. It was a macabre gallery, and suddenly Lavi understood the reason why the Vatican had destroyed all the files, gotten rid of almost every scrap of evidence. Finally, Lavi looked at all the writings beside the photographs. They were confusing, as most everything pertained to anatomical terms and precision wordsmithing, but the gist was clear. They had all been experiments of a type, one way or another. And none of them had survived.

Snippets of information were also written in charts and graphs of daily progress for each experiment, about their language skills, abilities, and, what seemed most emphasized, intelligence levels. All of them were off the charts, going into IQs of nearly 144 to levels of a phenomenal 198. Yet, on the charts denoting health, they were incredibly frail. Lavi found that he wasn't surprised, seeing as massive intellect almost always had to give way to strength in some fashion. Though people could have the ability to have great intelligence, strength was rarely found along with it. His eyebrows met as he continued to stomach the images in the file, working his way through until he reached the very end. Thankfully, this one did not have a picture. Instead, there was a photograph of a young woman sitting in a chair, her hair unnaturally long and her face strangely pale. Eyes stared out with a doleful expression, completely docile and unwavering. He frowned as he stared at the file. The last entry was almost ten years ago, maybe a bit longer.

Lavi sat down in a chair, his hand through his hair as he brushed it back with a wearied sigh. All of them looked like Eve. All of them were experiments of some kind. None of them survived, and the last entry was not finished. This didn't make sense at all. How could this be? He remembered the picture on Eve's filing cabinet exactly. The little girl standing with Rothschild had looked like a much younger version of all the Eves in the pictures. Who was she? She couldn't be any of these people, because the girl showed up over and over and over again. The question still remained: who was she? Was she Eve? Was she someone related to Eve?

Lavi is usually a very observant person, but he'd been incredibly engrossed with the file in that horrifically fascinated way. Soft footsteps went unheard. The swish of clothing went unnoticed. The gloves being tightened over hands went unheeded. A figure stepped out of the dark behind Lavi, moonlight highlighting him in a relief of black against pale. A hat covered dark brown eyes, and a black suit made the figure almost anonymous against the black of the rest of the 'forbidden' library. Suddenly, Lavi frowned as he sensed another presence near him. He began to turn-

There was a blinding pain in his head as something struck him right at the base of the skull. A sickening crunch was recieved through the air as Lavi suddenly fell out of the chair. A foot shoved themselves into his ribs, and he felt pain everywhere as something else was crashed on top of him. There was another stab of pain as something was shoved under his throat, and a voice whispered in a thick Texan accent, "You didn't see nothin'. And nothin' ever happened. Remember that, okay? Well, that's if you ever remember anythin' at all." Lavi's breath rasped in and out as whatever it was against his throat caused a line of fire, and he tasted blood in his mouth.

Blearily, he looked up as the figure grabbed the file from the table, flipping through it. The man stopped on one picture before nodding appreciatively. Lavi felt horror as the man started to walk away. Darkness was already descending on him, the pale moonlight slipping into the dark and melding together into a mess. Everything began to lose their definition, and all of the things that made the world real began to fade. Lavi could feel his heartbeat in his chest, thumping at a fast pace as adrenaline came a moment too late. He tried to push himself up, but every breath was fire and every expansion of his chest was agony. Lavi couldn't remember how, but he knew that he'd gotten on his hands and knees, dragging himself across the floor. It seemed like an eternity before he managed to pull himself into the hallway.

Little by little, he started to drag himself towards the cafeteria, which seemed like miles and miles away. Someone had to find him if he was near the cafeteria. It didn't matter,;he wouldn't be left for days to just rot there. After another eternity of dragging and moving, he found himself in the middle of yet another hallway... but now he couldn't remember where he was at all. Panic rose inside of him as he realized that he didn't know where he was, or how long it had been. Other worries started to assail him as his groggy mind started to slow down, bogged like an animal in a tar pit. He was slowly losing concentration, a sign of severe blood loss and significant pain. Lavi's eyesight began blurring, and he scrabbled with his hands across the floor to get anywhere, anywhere at all. He felt fire pour down his throat as his eyelids drooped, and exhaustion took over. One by one, his thoughts took turns at suicide, terminating themselves as his brain was deprived of oxygenated blood, his body slowing down everything except the most basic of functions. One by one by one...

And then, there were none.


	10. Fragile

Of all the things that described Kanda's life, fragile was not one of them. In fact, Kanda was anything _but _fragile, having able to take multiple blows in battle and taking bullets to his sword without hardly breaking a sweat. Fragility was not present in his nature, and neither was delicacy or finesse. Coarse, hard, tempered, rough, toughened, seasoned; there was nothing that denoted that fragility had anywhere to be in Kanda's existence. And yet, it seemed to be the center focus after years of rough callousness, war, and burden. He was brought more and more to this conclusion as he sat in his chair, his proud shoulders bowed by shock and unbelief, as he stared through a window much like Allen had at one point at the friend on the other side and being afraid that he might never wake up again.

How was it that life could be so fragile? It was so fervent and vibrant, yet it could be snuffed out so easily. He was a testament to this fact as his body degenerated, and he was brought down to the level of a decrepit old man. Yet, his degeneration had not been so sudden. It had been gradual, but this was so abrupt. It had happened so fast, and he didn't understand why. Kanda felt his breath whoosh out of him as he stared into Lavi's face, hardly able to see it from the amount of bandage that was around his head. He could only breathe through the help of oxygen tubes in his nose. His face was mottled purple and yellow in some places. His body was inert, and he'd been this way for twenty-four hours. No one could say when he'd actually wake up, if he ever woke up at all. Kanda didn't want to think of that fact, and he realized the irony of the situation. Shouldn't it be him, not Lavi, who was behind the glass window stuck to the bed with tubes in his nose and a heart monitor? How was it that in the state of his sudden progression, one of his own friends was taken down to this level where he'd originally been? God was cruel.

He hadn't heard about what had happened until he'd woken up, and a nurse had had to tell him. Eve was already working in the surgery with him, as she'd been one of the few people on call in the middle of the night that was able to do surgery competently at that time. He'd had to literally threaten the nurse with decapitation to let him out, and after that no one challenged the swordsman. Then again, who would with that look in his eyes and that sword in his hand? He'd arrived in time to see Eve come out of the surgery with bloody scrubs and the appearance of one who'd just been through hell and back. She shook her head at him, and she said, "Don't go in yet. They're still getting him ready for his room. You don't want to be there right now." Instead, he'd waited, albeit impatiently. He'd had to occupy himself in a myriad of ways, including glaring at people passing by as well as count ceiling tiles, which he found to be a particularly mind-numbing task. Lavi had woken up briefly, and they'd passed off the usual banter without any real bite. Kanda hadn't expected to feel such a ripping sensation inside of him whenever Lavi spoke, his voice hardly more than a rustle from the damage that it had received. Their conversation had been short as Lavi fell back underneath the chemical haze of sedatives, and Kanda wished selfishly that Lavi would wake up again, because it seemed like they'd left a lot unsaid. The question was, would either of them ever say anything that was better unsaid? He knew the answer to that question. He didn't think either of them could say it, to admit that the other was the best friend they'd ever had. That this may very well be the last time they spoke to each other for a while. That this may be the _last time _period. It was so cliched and obvious, and yet at the same time it had managed to sneak attack both of them.

There was the quiet sound of footsteps, and Kanda was aware that there was someone else here. He turned his head in the person's direction, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously as old Bookman stood at the window, watching as well. It seemed that Kanda wasn't the only one who was here to watch over the Apprentice Bookman. Bookman even narrowed his own eyes at Lavi, as if not believing that it was his own apprentice on that bed breathing with the help of machines.

"When did this happen?" Bookman asked. Kanda answered mechanically, "Sometime around two in the morning last night. Maybe even later."

"And when did he get out of the operation room?" Kanda answered again, "Maybe five in the morning." Bookman seemed to deflate as the truth hit him. They'd worked on Lavi for three hours, and this was what they had to show for their efforts. A broken man on a hospital bed. This scene was so reminiscent of Kanda's first night in the hospital that it almost seemed like an intentional irony made by Fate. One by one, the winners of the war were being picked off. Kanda felt strangely hollow, as if everything that he'd heard and what had happened seemed to have scooped out everything inside of him and dumped it out. He felt as if he'd left crucial parts of himself behind, just to protect himself from the onslaught of horror he was facing.

"How? How did it happen?" All these questions were beginning to annoy Kanda, and he grumbled irratibly, "I don't _know _how it happened. He was probably being stupi-"

"Lavi is _not _stupid." The vehemence in the Bookman's voice caused Kanda to snap his neck around to look at the man. His shoulders were stooped, not from age but worry. His face was lined from battle upon battle. His eyes were still circled by black, as they always had been, but the question-mark ponytail seemed to have less volume. Age had crept up on Bookman the same way it had on everybody else. Kanda had never noticed just how frail and small Bookman looked now, but he suddenly came to the realization that it was because he himself had grown up. Lavi must've felt the same way. He remembered the Junior Bookman one day looking incredibly troubled and more than a little anxious. After Kanda had threatened to smack him so hard his brains popped out if he didn't spit out what was bothering him, Lavi only had one answer.

"Panda-jiji... he's getting old, ya know? He worries me sometimes." His face had had that false sense of cheer that he'd seen too many times on Allen and Lenalee. What was it with these people, that they kept up the charade even when everyone knew that it wasn't real? Kanda shook his head. And now, instead of Lavi fretting over Bookman, it was the other way around. Teacher was worrying about apprentice. Kanda's irritated look sobered as he thought about Zhu and his visit. That old codger...

"What makes you say that?" Kanda asked. "He acts as if his brain's dead most of the time anyways." Realizing what he'd just said, he mentally did a facepalm. Not the best choice of words, but he'd put his foot in his mouth, and he wasn't about to apologize for it anyways. Bookman didn't seem to notice, though, and he answered back, "Lavi may be a retarded apprentice with little more in his head than witty sayings and an ability to annoy anyone on the planet, but I did not train him to be an idiot. Everything he did, he did with some sort of purpose. And this was because of some sort of purpose that he is here." Bookman's look suddenly became desperate. All his life's work... everything that he'd groomed Lavi to be over the past twenty-something years...

Kanda looked through the window again. Lavi hadn't changed in the last two minutes. His face was still mottled, his ribs still looking painful as he breathed, his head swathed in bandages. There was only one little strand of bright red hair poking out from all the bandages, and Kanda felt a pang. He would've hardly been able to tell who Lavi was, he realized. Had someone not told him, he would've figured it was another patient in the lacerations ward who was being stupid while playing with knives. It was clear that someone else did this to Lavi, but who did it was the question.

"He was my life's work, you know." Kanda looked at Bookman out of the corner of his eye. Bookman's eyes never left the man on the bed. They were strangely downcast, yet hopeful at the same time. Bookman took a deep, shuddering breath before letting it all out. His eyes flickered between the floor and the window, as if he couldn't decide where to look anymore. Kanda didn't answer. He knew better than that.

"I've been with him for twenty-one years. I clothed and fed him. I taught him everything there was to know. We Bookmen are not supposed to get attached to our apprentices because we know that they will leave us when the time comes, but... it is considered an impossible feat to let go of your apprentice without pain," he said, and his voice cracked at the end. Kanda suddenly saw Zhu in his mind, the old man crying as he took Kanda's hand and told him just how proud he'd been to be his teacher. He thought about he'd never gotten attached to anyone, felt that pain of having to let somebody go. He looked at Lavi in the window.

Maybe that time, that one instance where you had to leave somebody behind, had come.

"An apprentice becomes one's entire work. They become the one thing that matters, the thing that will carry on your legacy. We Bookmen aren't supposed to have a legacy- we're faceless sentinels, but it is human nature to pride oneself in something they have worked on for so long. Especially if... if you know that you won't outlast them. But I've already lost one. I can't afford another." Bookman's hands wrung one another, again and again, the only real show of his utter anxiety. Bookman cracked what was close to a smile, and he muttered, "I'm just as bad as the idiot apprentice in there." His smile suddenly fell, and he stood for several more moments staring at Lavi, and Kanda turned his head away. Giving the old man space, Kanda got up. As he left Bookman, he could hear the sound of knees hitting the floor, and several tears spatter against the tile. He didn't look back, though. He couldn't do that.

The last thought he had as he left the hallway was how old men managed to get so emotional. He tried to hide the tear streak on his face as he entered his room.

* * *

Eve's footsteps echoed down the hall as her heels clacked. She wasn't dressed in her usual lab coat, blouse, and a skirt. Instead, she was wearing a tanktop, a pair of cargo pants, and sunglasses on her head. It was obvious that she was about to go somewhere, but so far no one had seen her leave the hospital. Her eyes were tired and strung out from a long night as she thought about the conversation she'd had with Gavin, her lawyer. He'd said that he wasn't sure if he could protect her if she did in fact follow through with her plan and someone pressed a legal suit. She didn't so much care about the legal hubbub as much as the physical repurcussion that she might suffer. Her eyes were suddenly haunted as she remembered Lavi being put on the table for surgery. She swallowed hard.

He'd had several lacerations to the throat, all done by some sort of serrated knife. His ribs were cracked, and there'd been major internal bleeding in the chest cavity as well as the lungs. By the time they'd flushed his lungs out, he'd needed two or three blood transfusions to replace the fluids that he'd lost. Fixing his ribs hadn't been hard, but fixing the punctured lungs, stomach, spleen, and liver had been a work out. Eve shuddered for a moment as she thought about the redheaded Exorcist being laid out. She felt sick to her stomach as she thought about what had happened next as Eve had begun her work. Lavi had actually _woken up_. Through the haze of anesthetic, he'd actually managed to touch her hand, gripping it loosely. His one eye had fluttered open for a moment as she stared at him with an amazed and horrified expression.

What had his words been? They were ingrained in her mind, something that she was sure would add to the nightmares she'd face every night she went to bed.

"Run away. Take him with you, and run away." His eyes had had a pleading look in them, the pain no doubt pushing him so far that he no longer felt any more. He'd dragged her towards him as the other doctors bustled in complete disarray. The stink of blood was everywhere as his bloodstained breath colored the air in front of her while he'd gasped. His next words were in line with his Bookman nature, but in such a way that was so _unsettling. _She felt a chill up her spine.

"Eve..._what are you_?" She stopped in front of Kanda's room, knowing that he'd probably bombard her with questions about his condition, what was wrong, how to fix it. She'd had to reiterate it many times already to Lenalee, Allen, Bookman, and several other close friends of Lavi's. The hardest had been Crowley, who'd practically bawled his eyes out in an inelegant, heartbreaking sort of way. Eve wasn't completely heartless; it was just that she chose not to show it often. That time, she'd nearly lost it, putting her head in her hands for a second as she sat at her desk, dressed looking like she was ready to leave for some exotic place while their resident bookworm happened to be readying himself for the slab in the morgue. She took a deep breath as she walked into his room, her eyes sharp as she looked around. Her frown was evident as she realized that there was no one inside the room. Had he not come back yet? She walked in deeper into the room, eyeing the bathroom, but the door to it was wide open. Suddenly, the door slammed, and she whirled around to face Kanda, who'd shut the door easily with a single hand from behind it. He was sitting in a chair, wearing his casual clothing. He got up and locked the door in an ominous way, the sound of the lock clicking shut seeming as loud as a gunshot.

Eve felt the skin on her arms raise up. His eyes were strangely calm as he moved his gaze from the lock of the door over to the window where his massive plant happened to be spilling into the room steadily. He walked over to it and poured water from the watering can into it, gazing out into the forests around the hospital ward.

"You have _a lot _of explaining to do." His eyes suddenly moved to look at her, not even having to turn his head. What she had mistaken for calm was actually deadly concentration and chained fury. A thrill of fear went through her, the type that she'd only ever felt on occasion whenever around the samurai. She'd never doubted that he'd use his sword on her if she ever really made him angry, but she counted her status as a doctor, most of all _his _doctor, to keep him from doing something that drastic. Now it was obvious to her that possibly, just maybe, she'd miscalculated. He literally had nothing to lose. Maybe he was finally fed up with her. She sucked in a deep breath as she asked, "What exactly do you mean?"

Oh, she had a good idea.

Kanda went back to tending his little mini-garden, pulling out some of the weeds that had somehow managed to manifest there. His eyes flickered over to her, and she felt her face flush. It was as if he'd just suddenly peeled back every defense she'd had, and it hit her that he'd been slowly stripping back her usual responses and habits to find the core personality underneath. She felt fury build up in her to contest his own. Her hands balled up into fists. She narrowed her gaze as he answered, "Start with the Second Exorcist Project, and what your so-called 'reproduction' plan is." Her face never dropped the heavy facade of seriousness, giving nothing away.

"You're blabbering gibberish," she said. Who was she kidding? She'd have to tell him sometime. It was part of patient consent, though it wasn't like she gave too much of a damn to that either. Kanda pressed on, and he retorted, "Really? Maybe I can pull in Gavin, see how he thinks about the gibberish you were talking about." She'd been caught red-handed. But how? And who else could've heard? It wasn't like this was too big a secret, but she'd rather it fly under the radar, just in case someone got _really, really, really, willing-to-kill _angry. And it was apparent someone already had, if the Texan was anything to go by. Her shoulder throbbed as she remembered feeling hot blood course over her arm, the slug being pulled from her shoulder in the emergency room and having to crap through an explanation of a hunting accident out in the woods.

Eve returned his accusing stare with one of her own. "Think of it this way: what you don't know won't kill you." Kanda moved so fast Eve was actually surprised when she found herself with her back to a wall and her wrists gripped by steel. For someone who was supposedly so sick, he sure didn't show it. Eve knew better, though, but even so, she felt another jitter of fight or flight instinct run into her blood. She fought the urge to attack, Kanda's face hardly an inch away as he whispered, "Are you sure?" Her eyes widened as she realized that he was actually addressing something else about her. Was it true that what she didn't know wouldn't kill her? How did he... He was bluffing. It was the only answer she could find, but looking into onyx eyes, she realized that he was very, _very _knowledgeable about her current predicament. She took a shuddering breath as she turned her face away, a picture of disgust on her visage. Not disgust at him- disgust at herself. She was absolutely revolted by her rotting shell. She was finding it hard to hide it.

"What do you want?" Eve asked quietly. Kanda let go of her and sat on the bed.

"I want you to tell me how you're going to use the Second Exorcist project, idiot. Are you deaf or something? I've already said that. Besides, a little birdy told me more than you'd think," he said cryptically. Eve rubbed her wrists, realizing that he would stop at nothing. Where did she even start? Eve sighed to herself, brushing her hair back, and she said, "I'm going to China. We'll be recreating the Second Exorcist project, minus the painful synchronization. I want to know exactly how you were born in that womb tank. I'll be using your DNA to begin the process. In the event that doesn't work, I'll use mine instead. There's a chance that the key to your treatment is in the way you were created. The flaw may be there, and then I can fix it once I find it." Kanda's eyes were closed as he digested this information. She was thankful for that. She didn't know if she could take those sharp, brittle onyx pieces boring into her own vulnerable face. She had been unobservant. She hadn't noticed that he'd been watching her so carefully. She had underestimated him and his curiosity.

A picture of the Junior Bookman assailed her, and nausea turned in her stomach. Curiosity killed the cat...

"What happens to whatever you create in the womb tank?" he asked, his voice completely flat. She answered, "We'll dispose of it." Kanda's eyes flashed open, and Eve had the urge to flinch. There was an immeasurable amount of anger there, as if she'd just struck him across the face. He was beginning to blanch white, though he was moon-pale as it was.

"No. You won't. If you do, I won't agree to any of it, and I'll walk out of here. And then you don't get your research," Kanda said seriously. Eve sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She knew what this was about. The thing was considered a living thing, and Kanda didn't want to 'kill' it. Then again, could you kill something that never had been? It would essentially be a clone of Kanda himself, anyways. Was that why he didn't want it to die?

"Kanda, I have to-"

"I don't care what you _have _to do. I've got a crappy sense of ethics, but I've got honor. I'm not letting something die for my sake," Kanda said seriously. He was adamant, she could see that much. His motives were a little bit in the muddy water, but for the most part she could understand why he wanted to keep it alive. Sheesh, she hadn't expected this to be an issue. He'd never cared much for anything before to begin with. Why was he suddenly developing a conscience? This made things so much harder...

"All right. I'll let it live," Eve grumbled as she leaned against the wall. She stared at Kanda and said, "Besides, you get to make sure. I'm taking you with me to China." Kanda frowned. He turned his head to side suspiciously, looking at her from one eye. Eve rolled her eyes at his wariness, and she said, "Look, if we end up with a complication over here, it'll take me a while to get back to you. Besides, you know the Asian Branch better than I do. Especially the Second Exorcist compound." She saw a flash of pain across his face, but it was quickly hidden behind a clever mask of irritation.

"Fine, I'll go. I need to get out of this dump, anyways." At least they agreed on something. She'd hate to drag him kicking and screaming. Literally.

"We leave in a couple of hours. Get your things packed, and we'll go," she said. She was about to leave, but Kanda grabbed her wrist again, spinning her around. She felt hot fear lash her senses with a sheen of white adrenaline. Her heart was kicking a fuss, as he stared at her, and he said, "Are you bringing anyone else with us?" It was a simple question. Eve nodded, and she said, "A few other Exorcists are going with us who know the compound. Bookman'll be coming, and so will Chaoji. Once Lavi recovers, he will, too." Kanda's face seemed to smooth out at Eve's word choice concerning Lavi. Instead of saying 'if', she'd said 'once', denoting he would recover, and quickly too. So he did harbor genuine worry for the redheaded idiot. The world could be a strange place.

She brushed herself off as Kanda let go of her. It suddenly occurred to her that Kanda must've pieced all of this together somehow, but the question still begged the answer of the method in which he did it. Had she let something slip? Was it just her? Or maybe it was a combination of things. Kanda never gave any hint as he walked to his bed and sat down on it, thinking. His mind at the least hadn't left him. She stared at him for several moments, noting that he'd yet to lose his proud profile. Though there were bags under his eyes, and his skin was beginning to exhibit some of the attributes of paper, he was still a very handsome man. She snorted derisively at the thought as she walked towards the door, but someone was already there.

"You're leaving?" Eve realized they'd had an audience. Allen stood in the doorway with a slightly surprised look, and she knew that he hadn't heard all of their conversation. He must've just walked in to hear the last part. Allen's face looked torn and slightly hurt, and Kanda reassured him, "For a few days. Hopefully, at the least. You know bureaucrats better than I do." Allen chuckled, and he walked in. However, a special little someone was toddling in behind him, and Eve's eyebrow raised at Allen amusedly. Allen shrugged as little Evan wandered over to Kanda, who stared at him with a look akin to curiosity and caution. The little boy leaned against Kanda's leg, and he looked up at him with giant, blue eyes. The little boy grinned, white milk teeth showing as he waved. He couldn't be more than one or two years old.

"Kanda, um, this is Evan. He's-" Kanda cut him off and said, "Your son. I know already." Allen looked taken aback, both at Kanda's statement and next action as he picked Evan up in his arms. Kanda looked slightly pained at this action, wincing as his back protested at the new load it had to carry, but he didn't pay much mind to it. Eve excused herself abruptly, saying she had some pressing matters to attend to before they left. Kanda watched her leave with a hawk's eye, which was quite comical seeing as Evan was playing with his hair and pulling strands of it out.

"Ouch! Stop that, you little bugger!" Kanda growled, and Allen gasped at the use of the (purely English) expletive he'd no doubt learned from somebody in the hospital. Allen berated, "Don't use foul language around him! He'll remember that..." Kanda rolled his eyes. Like he cared if the kid was a potty-mouth or not. Kanda himself had a fair amount of knowledge in the area of curses, and he used it liberally. Kanda walked over to a chair and sat down as Evan stood in his lap and laughed. Allen sat on the bed, and he asked, "How did you know about Evan?"

"That's his name? Huh, I'm not surprised. It sounds about as stupid as yours does, Moyashi," Kanda mumbled, and Allen colored and said, "First of all, that's not my name, and second, it's _not _a stupid name for him. His mother called him that." Kanda lifted an eyebrow at Allen. The white Exorcist found himself flustered as he said, "H-his mother was killed in a collapsed building. I'd met her the day before she died. Don't get any stupid ideas, Ba-kanda." Kanda's eyes narrowed as Allen used his old, unfavorable nickname, but that was quickly shattered as Evan tried to stick his fingers up his nose.

"Oi! I said quit, you little shite!"

"KANDA!"

"What? He's trying to kill me! He's just as bad as you are! And you're not even blood-related. You're a bad influence on the kid, Allen."

As they traded sparse insults back and forth, Allen noted something. He'd expected Kanda to be fairly awkward and unsettled around Evan, considering he'd never seen Kanda interact with small children younger than him, save for Timothy Hearst. That just barely ended with Timothy nearly getting his head chopped off by a rather angry Kanda, but right now he seemed surprisingly mellow and unconcerned that he had a one and a half year old in his lap. Over the years, he'd really _mellowed out._ True, he still pulled a sword on some people, but it wasn't quite as bad as it had been when he'd been, say, eighteen or nineteen, which were some of the most tumultuous years of his life. Allen went thin-lipped as Kanda suddenly stopped, his face blanching very suddenly.

He stood up quickly, and he walked over to Allen and handed him Evan before walking out of the room with his arms around his stomach. Allen quickly picked up Evan and started to carry him along as Kanda wandered down the hall in what seemed to be a trance. It took Allen a while to realize that there was a fresh blood trail on the floor, and Evan started to cry. Allen shushed him, still following Kanda, and it took him a moment to realize that Kanda was following the blood trail as well. Allen hurriedly followed Kanda, and he asked, "Kanda? Kanda, what's wrong?"

A nurse suddenly screamed, and Evan began wailing. Allen frowned at Evan, wondering if it was the tense atmosphere that was causing him to freak out so readily, or if it was something else. Evan was a particularly calm baby whenever he was with Allen, and it was only when he was being taken away from him did he actually start crying and screaming. As Allen followed Kanda, he was finding it harder to control Evan, and finally, he had to put him down. Evan clung to Allen's leg and buried his face into his knee, sobbing and hiccuping. Allen realized that he didn't want to know what was there. Still, he had that horrible sense of fascination as he continued on, Evan toddling along next to him. Allen felt his hands shaking as he turned the corner into a hallway that ended in a dead end. Kanda was standing there.

_This is just like a horror movie, _Allen thought to himself. He'd only seen one or two- he didn't need to freak himself out. His job did that more than anything else. _He's just standing there, staring. I don't want to know what he's staring at, but... I'm compelled to see what it is?_ Allen walked forward very slowly, Evan suddenly letting go of his leg to stand there and whimper behind him. Obviously, he knew something bad was going on, and Allen had quite realized it just yet. He swallowed as he finally reached Kanda, and he peered over his shoulder. He sucked in a giant breath of air, his eyes going wide as he found that he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Her face was nearly unrecognizable. The hair around her head was stuck to the wall, matted with blood. Her hospital gown was drenched with it, and Allen wondered how someone could contain so much of that vital fluid to spill it in such an array. There was blood on the walls, and it was spattered across the floor. Her mouth moved unconsciously, and bubbles of translucent red escaped as she tried to breath. She was shaking, and her arm had fallen off, blood vessels continuing to pump blood through the open end of her arm. Her legs were twisted the wrong way, and Allen had the urge to run and call for help, but he knew that it would do her no good.

"Who is she?" Allen asked in a whisper quiet voice. Kanda's voice was completely level as he said, "Janet Gorlenski. Polish Exorcist. Her Innocence was in her arm. It tore her apart." Allen felt a shudder of disgust as the woman let out a pitiful moan, her eyes wandering aimlessly in their sockets. Several nurses suddenly flooded the small dead end, trying to heave the woman, but she screamed bloody murder as they touched her skin, and the pieces of her they grabbed rotted away in their hands to nothing. She screamed in pain, crying, and Allen felt absolutely helpless as he just stood there and watched. The nurses ignored them, merely swarming around like disgruntled bees as the screaming and flailing continued.

Allen realized that this would happen to him one day. Not today, and probably not tomorrow, but some day he'd be a bloody mess all over the floor, hardly recognizable as a human. He shuddered upon this realization, his face going completely white. He then looked at Kanda, who was stoically watching as the woman screamed. A gurney came in, and the two were forced to move as they loaded the woman who was literally falling apart in front of their eyes. She moaned, and Allen felt another feeling of diconcert settle into his bones as he watched them cart the woman off.

Another revelation struck Allen as well. Kanda would end up like that. Or, more like, he had a good chance of becoming the same, shuddering, disgusting heap of limbs and pain. As Allen cut his eyes across to stare at Kanda, he could see that the samurai knew it, too. Though his face was completely neutral and his eyes were unwavering, his hands shook almost imperceptibly. Allen was no fool, though. This had shaken Kanda. They were realizing that they were running out of time. They could avoid the subject that Kanda was going to die, and they could even say that he'd die in his sleep, silent and quietly, but the truth had slapped them in the face. He wasn't going to die in a very pretty manner. This was no movie, and the main character was not going to die in a hail of bullets, a deathbed surrounded by friends, or in the sunlight with a smile on his face. It would be an agonizing ordeal that he'd scream and kick through, one that even his friends, who'd seen their fair amount of gore, would not be able to look at.

Allen's mind conjured up an image of Kanda, twisted and broken as a child's toy after a tantrum. He felt like he'd throw up on the spot. Suddenly, Evan was burying his face into his leg, and he picked him up reflexively. Kanda said numbly, "We should go back."

Allen swallowed, and he said, "Yeah. We should."

The vision of Janet Gorlenski and her screams followed them down the hallway as they tried to get back to Kanda's room without beating their heads into the wall.

Life could be so fragile.


	11. Tainted

The walls echoed with a solemnity that Kanda couldn't quite place. He tried hard to fight the feeling of nostalgia that rolled over him as he walked into the compound of what had been his childhood home. He hadn't come back here since the day that Alma had died. It was too painful, for one thing. He hadn't thought that he'd be able to handle the emotional burden this place had represented. Still, these walls still seemed to reverberate with the laughter that had occupied it once upon a time, though it was overshadowed by an all-encompassing feeling of hurt and betrayal. He felt as if he could still taste it in his mouth, that bitter regret. Even though it had seemed that his old friend had forgiven him, Kanda couldn't let go of that feeling that he'd done something that no one could ever pardon.

"Stop your daydreaming, babe, and get a move on. I haven't got all day." Kanda's reverie was shattered by Eve's voice bouncing along these walls, a synthetic sound that felt disjointed in this setting. Never in a million years would he have thought that he'd hear _her _voice out in _this _place. There was just too much of a clash, two converging paths of time colliding with each other. He half expected to see Alma run down the hall with a jar of stolen mayonnaise, getting ready to talk to the rest of the unborn Exorcists, even though Kanda knew that Alma, in his heart of hearts, had a feeling that these Exorcists would never wake up. To banish the memory, as well as the expectation, he snorted derisively at Eve's comment. He brought his thoughts forwards into the moment.

Eve's footsteps 'clop-clop-clop'ed inside of the broken stone room. This was the womb chamber, where all of the Exorcists that had been a part of the Second Exorcist fiasco had been kept before they were awakened. Kanda suddenly wondered just how many of those Exorcists had actually woken up before him, only to be killed because their former memories were beginning to present themselves. Kanda himself had random flashes of the person he was before, of that one man whose life had been brutally stolen along with his lover's. Kanda hadn't known him - no, not at all, though he possessed a good bit of all his memories, all the way back to childhood. Moments of dejavu would assail him whenever he walked somewhere his former self had walked, realizing that he was standing exactly where _he'd _stood. Even now, Kanda felt dejavu, but not for the reason of memories originating from a former persona. He'd stood here so many times, watching his fellow wombmates, hoping that one day he'd get another friend like Alma, even though he'd die before he admitted it...

Eve suddenly clapped a hand on his shoulder, and Kanda just about collapsed as his knees buckled. He winced, pain lancing through his joints. He was practically an old man! This was just embarrassing. He managed to keep his composure, though, and, better yet, keep from falling over. Eve sighed and said, "Well, good to be home, huh?" Kanda rolled his eyes. If home meant going back to the place where you'd killed your best friend, then yes. It was good to be home.

"Not exactly." Eve smirked, and she took a seat next to a womb tank, already taking down notes on paper with her well-sharpened pencil. Kanda ignored her and her studiousness by walking around her. The earthquake that had shattered China hardly months before had affected the compound as well. There were many, many cracks and fissures in the walls, some of the pillars close to buckling. The place was unstable, but Kanda figured that if it had held up for over thirty years, it'd survive another thirty more, earthquake or no. The place was eerie, though, at the moment, because it was night time, and only the torchlights were on. He caught the sight of a tarpauline over a bunch of equipment. The shimmering light from the Ark's gate had disappeared now that it was dispelled, and the dark gave the covered equipment a strange look, as if it were a hulking monster that was slumbering away an inky night inside of a dimly lit cave.

He felt a strange thrill of anticipation as he stared at the equipment. He didn't understand what it was, but there was a strange intuition in him that told him to pull back the tarp, to see what was underneath. It was a strange curiosity that couldn't be placed. All he could do was obey it and hope that this would satisfy it. He drew the tarp back in an undramatic motion, revealing some crates, several boxes of strange looking implements including a few he recognized such as surgical tools, as well as a gun box. He frowned as he looked at the gun box and looked back at Eve, who was saying something into a recorder.

"-1882, and I am Eve Rothschild, investigating case 112B. I am looking into a tank that is about four feet deep..." He looked back at the gun case. The container was hard, shiny metal. He frowned at it, though that wasn't much of a change from his normal expression. He reached over to it, and he flipped open both of the clips. They were ominously loud in the large room, the sound of Eve's voice muffled in comparison. He glanced over his shoulder momentarily before looking back over. Slowly, he turned back, looking at the case. He attempted to open it-

It caught as the lock on it prevented it from coming open. Kanda cursed under his breath before placing the clips back over them. Of course, there must be guns in the gun case, but what Kanda wanted to know was why they needed them. There was nothing under the compound, and there hadn't been any inhabitants for well over a decade. Kanda had a fleeting memory of her shooting him with her electricity gun, and he winced. Perhaps that was what was in the case. Then again, if that were so, why was it locked and why hadn't she laid it out already in case of emergency use? He shook his head. Perhaps he'd never know.

And suddenly, another memory assailed him. _A shooting accident,_ it'd been called. Eve walking into the hospital with her shoulder bound up in gauze, blood leaking through it. She had been brisk and stiff, unyeilding as people asked what had happened. Her demeanor had been paranoid, slightly, and more than a bit cold. In fact, if anything, she'd been colder than usual. If anyone was an expert on leaving someone to freeze in a proverbial blizzard, it was Kanda. He hadn't realized that perhaps, just maybe, his doctor had something to hide. He figured it was something she hadn't wanted to talk about, more so because she'd been somewhere she wasn't supposed to be rather than an actual event that had happened.

Now, he was reconsidering. He'd never learned who had shot her. Perhaps that lawyer friend of hers had on accident? Or was it someone else? Who would want to shoot her in the first place? None of it added up. The gun couldn't be for protection - there was nothing to be protected from. Or was there? And if there was, who would it be that they needed protection from? Kanda's head suddenly whirled. He'd been locking his knees, and now the blood was pounding in his ears. He stepped away from the pile of crates, and he stumbled on the edge of the tarp, coming close to falling into one of the tanks.

Eve caught him deftly, her arms strangely comforting in their stiffness and strength. She helped him stand back up, and she said, "Your brain needs more and more oxygen these days, especially with your blood supply so low. Locking your knees is a bad idea. Why don't you sit?" She led him away from the crates, slowly lowering him into a sitting position on the ground. She took his hand in hers, and she professionally held his wrist between her thumb and first two fingers. Kanda watched her as she stared at her watch, and she announced, "Low blood pressure. Your heart must be acting up again." He sighed. Of course, it was always something. Never a moment of peace. He tried to get up, but Eve put a strong hand on his shoulder. Her eyes brooked no argument, and Kanda sullenly stared back.

"I'm fine," he stated.

"No, you're not," Eve replied evenly. She straightened back up, and she walked back to her seat. She pulled out her notepad and began writing a few more things down. Suddenly, Chaoji ran to her, carrying a mug of hot chocolate and several folders.

"Here, miss. I found these in one of the rooms. I-I'm not sure what they say, though... I, uh - "

"That's fine, Chaoji. Set them down near my bedroll. And give me the hot chocolate. This place is freezing." Chaoji, happy to oblige, handed her the mug and ran to the other end of the room where their bedrolls and mats were. Kanda frowned as he watched the man go, and he asked, "Why did you bring him again? And why the hell can't he read it? He's Chinese, and it's written in - "

"Chinese, yes, I know. He was a dock worker and sailor, wasn't he?" she asked, never looking up from her notepad. Kanda nodded. Then, like a lightbulb switching on and exploding, he realized what she was talking about.

"He probably can't read, can he?" he asked, his eyes flickering towards the other end of the room. The former sailor was already at the other end of the room, having found the walkway that ran between all the tanks. Kanda didn't mind saying this in front of him, but sometimes he could be just a _little _considerate. Eve sighed and stated, "That is most likely true. That, or this is beyond his reading level. Though, honestly, I don't blame him. Chinese isn't exactly an easy language." She looked down at Kanda, and she asked, "Do you read Chinese?"

Kanda scoffed. "Yes, I read Chinese. The Vatican didn't want little heathen experiments running around. They wanted _educated _heathens." Eve smirked at the quip. She continued writing, and Kanda finally felt well enough to stand again. He slowly got up, and he could swear he felt his joints grinding against each other like millstones. Finally, he straightened up, popping his back. For a few moments, his vision fuzzed over, and he had to stand still, but other than that he felt normal. Or, more accurately, what accounted for normal, which would be perpetual nausea and aching. Every step caused a jolt of irritation, and there was always something wrong with him somewhere.

Kanda sighed, and he said, "I'm going to for a walk." Eve nodded and fluttered her hand in his direction, a general sign of dismissal. Kanda hardly waited for it, immediately heading towards the middle aisle between the tanks set in the floor. Kanda looked in each, recreating the image of a sleeping Exorcist for every one. In his head, he could hear Alma calling them by name, saying hello, talking about mayonaisse. He shook his head, as if that would dislodge the voice of his dead friend. It wasn't so much that it was painful to think of Alma, and more that it was distracting him from what he'd originally wanted to chew over.

The samurai looked over at Eve, and he frowned, thinking back to the conversation he'd had with Lavi before the Bookman Junior could slip under the haze of drugs he'd been prescribed. Their conversation had been brief, but what was said had been heavy.

_"So many gruesome pictures... Oh God, Kanda you wouldn't believe what was in that folder. It's linked to her somehow, and I think it's one of the reasons she's trying so hard to cure you."_

_"What makes you say that?"_

_"Haven't you noticed anything weird about her?"_

_"Hell yes, I've noticed."_

_"Like blood under her fingernails?" _

_"...Yeah."_

_"That's... that was something I saw on all those photoes. Bloody fingernails. Peeled off fingernails. Kanda... she's dying. And somehow, you and her have the same problem. She's using you as an excuse to find a cure for herself."_

_"Why the hell are you telling me all this?"_

_"Knowledge is power. You should know that, Yuu-chan."_

The former Exorcist looked over his shoulder at the woman. She looked diligent, working on whatever was in her lap as she glanced back and forth between files. Kanda narrowed his eyes. He knew exactly what she was up to, but the problem was, there were still bits of the puzzle missing. Lavi had said that he'd found holes in her story, that she hadn't existed before age sixteen record-wise. From what he'd heard, she'd graduated early. She had above average intelligence, able to work out massive equations in her head quite easily, and that made her dangerous in Kanda's mind. Knowledge was power, and Eve was incredibly powerful.

He continued walking along the path, looking down towards Chaoji. Bookman was approaching from the side of the large room. When Kanda had reached their living area, he asked, "What next?" Chaoji looked up, surprised by Kanda's sudden appearance. The Chinese man stuttered, "I-I-I don't really know. I'm here more for the heavy lifting and such, and not so much for the science-y details... I needed out, see? Cabin fever in there, it's horrible." The sailor chuckled nervously, the bracelets on his wrist clinking as he rubbed the back of his head.

"I, uh, I think that there's a schedule for all this somewhere, I don't know where. She said we'd be back by the end of the month, said she'd be finished and she'd know all she needed," Chaoji reported, and he went back to lifting the large boxes of equipment and shifting them around to create walls of a sort between the bedrolls. A clever arrangement, Kanda noted. He placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, looking around.

And, for a moment, everything seemed... normal.

"Kanda, you'll need your rest. We'll be exploring the compound for more rooms with any notes," he said, his voice gravelly. There was hardly a trace of the old man that had broken down at the window of a nearly-dying man. He was all business now, helping with records and the like, just as he'd been trained to do probably since he'd been able to walk. Kanda nodded, and he walked over to his own bed. He frowned, and he asked Chaoji, "Why is someone else's bed roll next to mine?" Chaoji looked up, and he grunted, "Well, doctor's orders. She wanted to be close to you just in case you happened to have seizures or something like that." Kanda sniffed derisively, thinking about how many times he'd had problems and she'd not been there. Of course, _now_ she wanted to take care of him, when they were so close to whatever goal they were trying to achieve.

He lay down on took her bedroll, and he dumped it into one of the tanks that was filled with water. Chaoji and Bookman halted to watch it sink, the both of them slowly lifting their eyes to stare at Kanda. He returned the favor.

"I'm not a child. I can take care of myself. And she can fish out her own bed. Gives me time to actually sleep without being bothered every minute," Kanda said. He went back to his bed, and in moments, he was asleep, enclosed by low walls of crates and the sounds of the one place he'd once considered home.

* * *

Kanda woke up, his eyes flashing open.

"Brain... for it to work... they need a brain..." he muttered. He jolted up and out of bed, resisting his creaking joints and absurdly sharp pains as he ran out of the stacks of crates, his heart beating. How in hell where they going to actually recreate the project if they had no brain to work with? Were they just going to build their own? Or were they going to go and hijack some freshly dead Exorcist and use theirs for a recreation? Kanda realized that his stomach was turning at the thought of it as he slowed to a stop at what could be considered Eve's desk.

It was covered in papers written in Chinese and English, but what he really wanted to see were the blueprints. What were they going to do? There was no way they'd tell him what they would do in order to recreate the experiment, and he didn't trust them to tell him either. He flipped through all of the papers, looking for anything that had to do with the actual plans on recreating the experiment.

His eye caught on a specific Chinese character, and he realized it was the one for 'body'. He scanned over it, and he realized that he had a copy of the procedure that had created him. It was water-stained and beginning to turn yellow, but it was still legible. He flickered through it, realizing that this wouldn't help him at all. All of it was Greek to him, anyways, using terms he'd never heard of before, and he abandoned it for another file. He felt the air go out of him as he finally found something he was guessing had to be it.

His eyes scanned over it, but the nearly nonexistent light was causing his eyes strain, and the words started to blur. He put it down, rubbing his eyes. This wasn't going to help him. He needed a light. He turned around when he was suddenly blindsided by something hard and large. It took him a moment of disassociated thought to realize that it was a chair, and he felt a foot smash down on his stomach. He curled up in pain, coughing as his vision blurred again, the dim light making it hard to tell what was what. He was being attacked, but by who? What the hell was going on? There was something wrong -

Very suddenly, a flashing white pain hit him in the temple, and he screamed as he held his head. For several minutes it continued, building and building until every single sense was blocked out, and then, mercifully, it faded into an ache. He breathed in shakily, realizing that something very wet was trailing down his cheek over his nose. For a moment, he thought they were tears from the pain that had suddenly attacked his head, but the drops were too dark to be tears...

"Oh my god... Oh my god! Chaoji! Bookman! GET OVER HERE!" Kanda's vision spun again as he vaguely recognized the voice before finally blacking out.


	12. Empathy and Apathy

The world was a blur of noise, light, and movement. All of it bombarded him at once in a giant gasp of senses. He realized that he was on his back facing the ceiling, a rather large bandage on his torso and an IV stand next to him. He lifted his hand up vaguely, trying to regain some sense of control and memory. He noticed that the IV was stuck in his skin, the tube filled with red liquid. It took him a few moments of sluggish thought to realize that this was blood. He'd lost blood. How had he lost...? Suddenly, everything seemed to come over him like a massive gust of air, and he realized that the ceiling above him was stone, not plaster, and that he was lying on a bedroll on hard stone flags, not in a bed in a hospital. He'd been hit several times... there'd been a searing pain in his head... And now, part of his sight was red, as if someone had put a tint over it...

Kanda lifted a single hand to his temple, tracing backwards towards the source of pain that had so quickly annihilated every sense of human in him. He'd become an animal that had only one want: to escape the pain to which he'd been subjected. His fingers passed over it, and he didn't feel anything at all. The pain had been underneath the skull, and it had been excruciating, but it was gone now. He could still feel the slightest pressure there, underneath his fingertips. He slowly sat up, looking around. He was enclosed by walls of crates... Yes, this was his section of the little compartment that Chaoji had made for him. Someone must've carried him over. Feeling slightly lightheaded, he began to stand up, but he suddenly heard footsteps, and he hastily got back into bed. There were only three people here, and there was a good chance one was Eve and the other was Bookman.

And they liked to talk.

"Tell me _again _what happened." That was Bookman, his familiar raspy voice floating over the crates in a soft hush. It seemed Kanda had gotten very lucky. They were going to start from the beginning, without pesky missing pieces. Eve sighed, and she said, "All right, all right, I'll start over. Don't see why I have to, I've already told you ten times - "

"Nine times, actually." Another sigh, and Kanda wished they'd cut to the chase. He was getting uncomfortable, lying on the floor like this. He also felt like he had something stuck into his skull, a dull pain that was beginning to intensify. He shifted slightly, turning his head. He could hear better now, and his hair obscured his face. Someone leaned against a crate, the wood creaking. Kanda almost held his breath as he heard the story start.

"That idiot went and threw my bedroll into the tank, so I had to go and dry it out. I decided to sleep next to my desk with a second bedroll."

"Why?"

"If he's going to dump my _bed _into a tank, I don't know what else he'll do to me. I'd rather sleep where I'll be able to hear him coming. Anyways, I fell asleep, and that's all I remember up until... Well, I heard noises at my desk, and someone was messing with all of my papers. I couldn't tell who it was, so I hit him over the back with a chair..."

"Isn't that a bit overkill?"

"I thought you were supposed to be completely impartial to a story?"

"...Continue."

"Anyways, I hit him over the back with a chair, and he went down. I stepped on him, but then he started to scream and hold his head. I know I didn't hit his head, so this was new. And then, he started bleeding out of his eyes, probably from some hemorrhaging that occured while the blockage in his head practically blew his blood pressure sky high. You know the rest of the story."

The sound of footsteps entered Kanda's space, and he closed his eyes. He deepened his breathing, trying to pretend to be asleep. Suddenly, he felt someone move his hair out of his face, and a cold hand covered his forehead. Memories of another time that this same hand had touched his face so gently came back, and he forced them away. The memories were uncomfortably warm and soft, almost suffocating. He tried to keep himself from shying away from her as she moved her hand down his cheek and grabbed his chin. She turned his face towards her, and she opened one eye. He couldn't hide the fact he was awake. She stared at him with a look of puzzlement as his eyelid fluttered, and then it changed to a look of stony disapproval.

"If you're well enough to eavesdrop a little, I think you're fine enough to tell me what you were doing snooping through my desk." Kanda jerked his face out of her hand, and he said, "You need a brain for the project, to complete it. Where are you getting it?" Eve seemed shocked for a moment, but she quickly covered it up. Kanda watched her closely as she took her hand off his face, and she said, "We're getting it fresh from a dead Exorcist who was deceased nearly twelve hours ago." Kanda's mind immediately ran in Lavi's direction, and he asked hotly, "Who? Whose brain are you using?"

Kanda noticed that Bookman's face was stern and tense. He'd probably come to the same conclusion that Kanda had. The young doctor said quietly, "It's not Lavi, if that's what you're thinking. I'm getting one from the morgue in the hospital. Anything fresh will do." Kanda almost winced. What happens if Lavi ended up in the morgue? Kanda almost shivered. People who went through the Second Exorcist Program... they didn't come back right. Even with Alma, Kanda could tell there was something just a little off with him. With _both_ of them.

"Bookman?" The old man nodded, and he walked off, probably to write down everything that had occurred that night for further reference later. Kanda propped himself up on his elbows, and he looked at Eve with a hard glare. She gave him a glance as well as she checked his IV and the bag on the stand. She continued to fiddle with the IV.

"I'm sorry for... for hitting you with a chair," she said. "If it's any consolation... you managed to break it into a lot of pieces. And at first I didn't think that it did much to you anyways. And I nearly broke four of my fingers doing it." Kanda scoffed. Yeah, that made him feel a whole lot better. Eve's face looked bizarrely soft and vulnerable, and Kanda realized that perhaps, maybe, just maybe, she felt guilty. Though she'd been rougher with him than most doctors would chance to be, she had never hurt him with the intent to severely harm. She yanked the bag free of the stand, and she replaced it with another one that she'd gotten from a cooler in the corner. She dumped the almost empty bag of blood into the trash while she fixed the other one to the IV stand and reinserted the tube.

"I need to check your back. Make sure you're not bleeding or have any broken bones. We finally got the X-ray unpacked, and luckily it's a lot more portable than I'd thought," Eve said, her voice clear and professional, though Kanda still noticed an undercurrent of emotion beneath her words. He decided to acquiesce without any further ado, and he turned over on his stomach, though it was slightly painful to do so. His sternum was still sore and half-healed, seeing as the cells weren't multiplying anywhere near fast enough to have him fixed up in less than a month. Eve raised an eyebrow at him, and he got up again, realizing he'd left his shirt on.

He removed it, and he saw with a slight bit of shock that he'd been wrapped with bandages. He gave Eve a dry look, and she looked away sheepishly. She'd hit him with that chair harder than she had to, obviously. He resumed his position on the floor, and he waited. Eve took a black bag from the corner, and she set it beside him. She began to snip away the bandages, and he wondered what his back looked like. Probably a massive pulp of meat. He winced as she removed the bandages from his skin, the edges sticking to the blood that had caked on to them. For once, she was being gentle. She didn't rip or tug harder than necessary, and her fingers were quick.

"Well, what's the damage?" Kanda asked, being humorously morbid. However, he winced at the choice of words as he realized that Eve probably didn't appreciate the phrase too much. He could tell in the way that she hesitated before answering, "I don't think there's any broken bones. There's a lot of bruising, a few cuts, but nothing that won't go away within the next week or so. I'll have to put an antiseptic on it about every day, though." Kanda heard Eve remove something glass from her bag - it clinked as she put it down - and he looked out of the corner of his eye to see what she was doing.

Suddenly, she picked up the bottle again, and Kanda didn't get to see the label, but he had the feeling that whatever it was would sting like hell. Fire seemed to explode over his back, and he hissed in pain. His back tensed, and Eve muttered, "Sorry, sorry. I know it stings." She continued to put antiseptic over his wounds. Kanda sighed through most of it, muttering curse words under his breath, but he noticed that Eve was being oddly soft with this, too. It was so weird how she went into phases of compassion and apathy. It confused him so much. It was like getting continual backlash over and over.

Eve let out a loud hiss as she dropped a swab and knocked over the bottle of antiseptic. Kanda propped himself up on his elbows to see what she'd done, and the only indication that anything had happened was the way she shook her hand as if she'd accidentally put it in a flame. Kanda frowned, and he took her hand, looking at it. Eve frowned at him and tried to jerk her hand out of his, but he hung on.

He could see the blood under her nails. Like his, her nails were beginning to fall off, and the antiseptic had gotten underneath. He stared at her, and they held their gaze for several moments. Finally, he asked, "What's happening to you?" Eve's gaze flowed to the floor, and she seemed to deflate. Her shoulders began to shake ever so slightly, and her lip quivered. Kanda hadn't realized that it was such a touchy subject -

Lavi's words came back to him. _"So many gruesome pictures...It's all linked to her somehow...She's dying..."_ Kanda guessed that dying could count for a touchy subject.

"You have to ask that question?" she asked quietly, her voice breaking imperceptibly. She tugged her hand gently, and he let go of it. She balled her hands into fists, and she said, "You're not the only one who's... dying, I guess. There really isn't any way to sugarcoat it." She placed her fists in her lap, and she looked away from him. Kanda suddenly felt a burst of empathy for her, realizing that maybe they actually might be having the same problem.

But that also meant they needed the same solution, and she had every right to take it from him. Then again, she needed him. And he needed her.

They were at an impasse. Both of them would die without the other.

He sat up, crossing his legs. He stated, "You never told anybody." Eve's brown eyes were like smoldering embers. No... They didn't look like embers. They looked more like burned chocolate. Something once sweet suddenly burned. She continued to stare before saying, "Yes. I never told anyone. I didn't think it pertinent information." Kanda's eyes were solid as he said, "You could've told me."

"Why would you have wanted to know?" she asked. He was taken aback. His face remained unfazed, but his mind was whirring. Why would he want to know? What purpose did it serve him? He was speechless, but luckily, she seemed to take it for stoicism. Kanda continued to think on the question. Why would he want to know...?

"Because you're my doctor. And we need each other," he said simply. He didn't mean it at all in a romantic context. It was for mutual survival that they know everything about each other. Kanda's eyes tightened as he stared at her face. She was staring down at the floor with a far-off gaze. He finally asked, "Eve, who are you?" She gave a sharp laugh, and she looked up with a sardonic smile. A tear began to well up in her eye, but she blinked, and it faded away as if it had never been.

"I don't know, Kanda. I don't know who I am. I never did," Eve stated quietly, her voice nearly inaudible. She refused to look at him, and he finally grabbed her chin and lifted her face. She looked at him with confusion as he tilted his head to the side.

"I think you know who you are. Just not what. Finish," he said, gesturing to his back. "I'll wrap your fingers for you when you're done." Eve blinked, but she nevertheless took him up on the offer. The minute she was finished with his bandages, he sat up and took her hands, wrapping bandages over the tips of the nails that were already beginning to fall off.

"How long do you think you have?" Kanda asked, completely businesslike. Eve bit her lip in thought, and she answered, "Probably a few months, at the most. At the least, a couple of weeks. I honestly don't know for sure. It always... always started with the fingernails and hair." Kanda stared at her.

"What always started?" he asked quietly, though he realized that was a useless question. The both of them knew that. They held a gaze for quite some time, a rare moment of empathy passing between the two as they began to realize that perhaps they shouldn't have held each other out at arms' length. They were more alike than they cared to admit.

"The dying," she said. "This was always how it started with all of them." Kanda wanted to ask more questions, but he could see that she was beginning to close up, her face getting that far away look again. He decided that he'd have to piece all of this together later. He nodded at her.

"All right." Suddenly, Eve looked very lonely to him, and he realized why. He was now the only other living person, to his knowledge, that knew that Eve was dying. No one could share this experience with her. She was all on her own, as was he. Kanda had never been one for social interaction, but there was a sort of connection he could make with Eve, in that she was suffering much the same way he was. He just didn't know how to express that this feeling of empathy existed.

Eve suddenly stood up, and she said," We'll be leaving soon for the body room. I'll need to go and see the corpses soon, if they haven't already decomposed to dust already." She began to walk away, and Kanda chastised himself for feeling disappointment. He hadn't been expecting anything in the first place, so why should he care? Still, it was there. He stood up, thinking about what she'd said. The corpses... they were going to go and see their corpses. Kanda shivered as he realized he'd be looking at his own dead body soon, and he guessed this was what was meant by feeling like someone had walked over your grave. He put on his shirt, and he attempted to stand up.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

"And how are you today, Lavi?" The redhead attempted a smile. It looked more like a grimace. The nurse, nevertheless, smiled back at him. Under all the bandages, he was really very cute actually, but it was a pity someone had to go and beat him up. The nurse was sort of hoping that she could ask him to go out with her when he was all healed up and that face of his got a bit of its allure back. She put down the tray of food on the nightstand, and she stated, "Now, we'll have to take all your vital signs again today, remember?" Lavi nodded imperceptibly under the bandaging.

There was a knock on the door, and the nurse turned her head. She looked puzzled for a moment before she said, "Um, sir, I'm afraid that visitors aren't allowed right now. You'll have to wait until later."

"Oh? Pardon me, li'l miss. I didn't know. I got this here pass from a doctor, though, to come see m'dear friend," a male voice said with a thick accent. Lavi felt his one eye widen in amazement and fear.

Him. With the Texan accent.

"You did? Hmmm... I see, yes. Doctor Sokida can be kind of lenient on this sort of thing, I guess. All right, all right. I'll come back later. If you need anything, just press that call button, okay?" the nurse said in a chipper voice, and she began to walk away. Lavi felt like grabbing her by the hand, but he couldn't hardly move. He was on pain meds, and his mind wasn't as nimble as it had been. He hated the groggy feeling, especially given his current circumstance. However, his gulp was audible, and the Texan smiled.

" 'lo, partner. I see you're doin' pretty well fer yerself there," the Texan said, plopping himself down in a seat. He leaned back, the seat creaking under his weight, and Lavi felt sweat begin to gather in the corner of his temple. He had never felt so defenseless in his short life. Even against a Level Four with nothing more than a flag, he'd felt more confident than here in this room with this mortal man sitting not two feet beside him.

"What... do you... want?" Lavi finally said. It was hard to speak because of the damage done to his lungs. It took a lot of air for him to speak, and that required deep breathing of a painful type.

"Nothin'. Just wanted to check up on you, was all," the man said, tipping his felt hat to the Exorcist. He fingered his handlebar mustache, and he dug around in his pocket. He finally found what he was looking for, a cigarette. He put it in his mouth, and he was about to light it before looking at Lavi and asking, "You want one?" After a beat of silence, the Texan busted out into laughter, and Lavi could only glare at him.

" 'Course ya don't! If y'did, you'd probably be blowing smoke outta yer chest, wouldn'tcha boy, huh? Aaaah, that's a good 'un right there," the Texan said, tapping one booted foot as he lit up. Lavi watched the smoke billow out of his mouth, and he would like nothing more than to take that tobacco-stick and jab it into that man's eye.

"Just so you know, this really ain't a social call. 'S just, them redcoats up top ain't too happy with you findin' them documents and whatnot, not to mention you not dyin' and all. I'd a' hoped that you woulda done gone into a coma or somethin', but you lose some and you win some," the Texan said, blatantly pulling out a butterfly knife and playing with it. Lavi could only watch the metal twirl as it went round and round his fingers in a terrifyingly captivating dance. It wouldn't take much to kill Lavi in his present state. All you had to do was take out his oxygen line or swiftly take out an artery or two.

"I... don't even... know what... I saw... Didn't... understand... any of...it," Lavi wheezed, breathing hard from the exertion of talking. Lavi was coming up with a plan. Hopefully, he could distract this unwanted visitor long enough to push the call button that was on Lavi's left, the opposite side from where the Texan happened to be sitting. Not only that, perhaps he could get a bit more information out of the Texan on Eve, Kanda, and the whole mess that they'd gotten themselves into.

"Hmmmm, y'know, sonny? I don't think it matters much to them. I reckon they'd rather not take chances and cut the rattler's head off instead of whippin' 'im across the back," the Texan drawled out slowly, inspecting his knife. Lavi could've winced. This guy liked to play with his food before he killed it. That was both blessing and curse. He could be distracted... but Lavi's death would be long, drawn out, and, no doubt, painful.

"Why...are they... so interested in... Eve?" Lavi asked, and the Texan's eyes flashed from underneath his wide-brimmed felt hat. He coughed slightly before politely answering, "Well, there's a mite problem about that. I honestly don't know, and I don't honestly give a damn, either. I'm just the happy-go-lucky feller who gets to have a bit o' fun with you three 'fore you kick the can, is all. I'm the messenger, and that's it." Lavi realized his plan had backfired. The Texan had figured out his ruse, and now he was going to suffer for it. Lavi felt his heart hammer in his chest as the Texan walked around to the other side of the room. The call button was out of reach by nearly half a foot, and the Texan was standing right there.

And then, a miracle happened.

Allen poked his head in, and he said, "Hey, Lavi, I - Oh. I'm sorry. I'm interrupting, aren't I?" Allen's eyes held confusion, and Lavi took the Texan's stunned silence as a chance to save himself.

"Just... talking. Come in," Lavi forced out quickly. Allen smiled as he entered the room along with Link and Evan, and the Texan hastily hid his knife back into the folds of his long, black coat.

"I'll be seein' you, friend. Have a good visit with him. Sorry I couldn't talk longer, but then again, I do have another engagement. Perhaps another time," the Texan said with a slight smirk that hid well-conceiled irritation. His prey had gotten very lucky. Lavi watched him as he began to leave. The Texan tipped his hat to Allen, who smiled back warily. Link's eyes met the stranger's, and they seemed to share a quick moment of recognition before the Texan beat a hasty retreat out the door.

"What was that about? Who was that, Lavi? Oh! I'm sorry, don't answer that if you're tired," Allen said. Lavi shook his head, and he struggled to sit up. Link pushed Lavi back down on the bed and told him, "I'll explain it. Don't worry, Lavi. You rest. I'll arrange something for you." Allen frowned at the tone of Link's voice. It was much more serious than usual, the type of tone that denoted reassurance as well as a bit of worry. Allen was being left out of something.

"What's going on, Link? Did you know him?" Allen asked. Link looked back at Allen with a sheepish glance before putting on a mask of professional intelligence.

"I'll explain it all to the both of you as soon as I talk to the front desk. We need to get Lavi moved to another room," Link said. He left, leaving Allen and Lavi in a wake of silence, Evan's gurgling and walking the only sound in the room.


	13. Corpses Galore

The Texan walked down the hallway, whistling a tune as his steps clip-clopped on the flagstone floor. Yes, he'd missed his query, but he'd have time yet to take care of him. At the moment, there were other loose ends to deal with, most namely a man that most would not expect to be embroiled in the goings on at present. He opened a matchbook, taking out one single stick of phosphorus-tipped wood. He put another cigarette in his mouth, lighting up in the dim corridor of the Order, idly thinking about the best way to get rid of him.

It wasn't so much that the Texan was a cold-blooded lapdog of the Vatican. Oh, no, not at all. He tended to be even _merciful _towards those the Vatican deemed destructive towards their causes, though a vast majority of the Vatican didn't even know he existed. He thought they were all great pomps, sitting up in their high chairs with that pious look on their faces. True, true, some of them were genuinely good, near divine at points in time, but there were some that were merely human and looking out for the Vatican's best interest at heart - while usually serving their own interests at the same time. No, no, the Texan was merely a janitor, cleaning up the messes that those old farts in their red coats happened to make from time to time. He did his job, and he did it well. He didn't like leaving dangling strings for people to pull, so he made sure to take care of everything, but this case was different. It was so expansive, and the kill orders were almost always at random, leaving some scientists to live and others to the chopping block.

It had surprised the Texan to find that this man, this esteemed Order worker, happened to be on the kill order. He honestly wasn't much of a threat, and the Texan himself wouldn't have guessed that he was in this mess in the first place. Then again, he'd had to start out small, hadn't he? He hadn't gotten to be Branch Chief the first time around - he'd had to start as a Supervisor, and perhaps his background had had to do with this entire debacle.

The Texan stopped outside of an office, staring at the name plate. He sighed, remembering the face of the young lady he'd passed down the hallway. She'd had such a happy, care-free look. If there was one thing the Texan didn't like, it was splitting up families. Poor girl - hopefully she had more steel in her than he'd thought. He pushed open the door, not bothering to knock, and a man with dark, curling hair and glasses looked up in surprise from his reports. He sat back in his chair thoughtfully, folding his hands over his midsection as he stared at the tall American in the felt hat with a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

"Hello, there. How may I help you?" Komui Lee asked, blinking innocently. The Texan smirked a bit underneath his wide-brimmed hat, and he sat down in the chair in front of Komui's desk. The Chinese man was still untidy as ever, leaving papers strewn about. The Texan cocked his head to the side, and he asked,"I don't really know if you want me to answer that question, partner." The Texan removed the cigarette, tamping ash on the floor. He noticed Komui's eyes flicker to the pin on his lapel, the sign of the papacy on his chest. Recognition and realization flashed in Komui's eyes, but they were suddenly hidden by the sheen of his glasses.

"I guess I should've seen this coming. They don't think I can keep quiet anymore, do they?" Komui asked. His eyes were visible again as the sheen of white light over his glasses faded with a move of his head, but the eyes held dark understanding and acceptance. The Texan felt his mood change as he realized the gravity with which this man was taking the news. He nodded solemnly. Of all the people in the Order... Komui Lee had been one of the Texan's favorites to watch. He'd been energetic and rambunctious, something that the Texan admired in a man who worked in the Science Department where they were prone to be stiff-necked and uppity.

"How'd you get messed up in all this, anyways?" the Texan asked quietly. He might as well have his questions answered before the poor man died. It seemed that Komui had already accepted the fact that he was not leaving his office alive as he sighed, leaning forwards in his chair.

"I was a young scientist working on the preliminary ground work for the Evening Star project. I was there when the first experiment was created, and I helped collaborate efforts between the Asian branch and the Camisbury Industry. I know almost everything about it," Komui answered. The Texan nodded. No wonder the Vatican wanted him gone. They were going after the big wigs, not the small fry scientists who only knew bits and pieces of the puzzle. The Texan's eyes gleamed as he said, "You know what's going to happen, don't you? Now that Eve's gone out and done this?" Komui smiled sadly at his desk.

"I sent Link to her for a reason. And don't worry about Link - he only knows the gist of the project, no specifics, and he's completely loyal to the Vatican. I guess I should have anticipated she would do something so drastic, after all. Of course, that was why I paired her up with Kanda in the first place," Komui said with a chuckle. The Texan blinked. Komui Lee...

He'd planned this all out. He'd actually _planned on all of the outcomes._ Of the Exorcist physicians in the Order, of which the number had grown, Kanda and Eve would be paired with their same problems, and he'd somehow orchestrated everything from the sidelines. The question begged, did this mean that Komui had actually anticipated all of these problems and found a way to head them off at a later date? Had he manipulated every puzzle piece to line up like this? Those two, their whole lives... He'd been playing all of them like a fiddle, knowing that Eve would be the only doctor brave enough or stupid enough to try something so blatantly against Vatican orders and beliefs in order to save both herself and her patient. He'd sent Link to Eve to warn her, spurring her further into her research and delving into the dirty secrets the Vatican wanted to keep hidden. What else had he done? There was more to this man than the Vatican knew. Perhaps that was why the Vatican wanted him, out of all people, dead. He was a legitimate threat.

"You manipulative bastard," he said in slight amazement. Komui gave a small laugh, and he said, "Why thank you for the compliment." Suddenly, the air turned thick with tension as the two stared. Komui finally said, "Can I at least write a letter first? To my sister?" The Texan blinked, and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. The Chinese scientist had already shown himself to be wily enough to weasel past the Vatican and set all of this in motion.

"One more question: Why?" The Texan wanted to buy a little time for him to think. A letter seemed innocent enough, but he didn't want to take chances that he might hint that his death was anything other than a suicide. Komui didn't seem to detect the tactic as he stared at the Texan and stated, "Because we all love him. Kanda. As unsociable and horrible he can be, he's our friend. I did it as much for him as for my sister. She's so attached to him that it would break her to see him die, and it was within my power to stop his death to an extent. Neither he nor Eve deserve this sort of life. No one deserves this sort of life." His stare was straight and piercing, and the Texan almost broke his gaze. He had never met someone who had met their death so calmly and with such steel. Even though the Texan could see that the man's hands were shaking visibly, he had to commend him for his straight stare and unwavering voice.

"All right. You have five minutes. Write your letter," the Texan said. He guessed that maybe it would even be better for them if someone figured out that he'd been murdered. This man didn't really deserve the shame that came with suicide. He got up and walked around the desk, looking over Komui's shoulder as he began to write his last letter to his only surviving family. As Komui wrote, the ink smudged in places as tears dripped onto the page. Still, Komui was stoic as he sealed the envelope, writing Lenalee's name on the front with care and flourish. He kissed the letter once, and he put it down on the edge of the desk where it wouldn't be splattered with blood. He took a second piece of paper, and he looked at the Texan for approval. The Texan nodded his head, and Komui scribbled a quick note, signing it, folding it, and labeling it 'Lily'. He put this one down right next to Lenalee's letter, and he sighed as he glanced at the two letters.

The Texan stared at Komui as he sat there in his chair, staring off into the distance.

"Any regrets?" the Texan asked. He rarely asked that question of anyone. It was a bit too personal for a hitman, but sometimes it just seemed like the right thing to say. Komui smiled.

"Only that this will hurt my sister more than me, that I won't see Lenalee married, and that I never told Lily 'I love you' in person," he said quietly. He looked up the Texan, looking oddly serene.

"Should I do it? Or you?" Komui asked almost in a whisper. The Texan removed a revolver with a silencer on the end from his coat.

"I will. It'll be quick," the Texan said, almost regretfully. He put on a cold veneer of professionalism as he awkwardly placed the barrel perpendicular with the bottom of Komui's jaw.

Komui looked ahead, his eyes far off to another place, possibly the banks of the Yangtzhe where his parents stood with a smile on their faces as they held his baby sister, and the Texan pulled the trigger of the revolver. There was a short cough from the gun as the small caliber bullet left the barrel.

Komui slumped in his chair with finality. A small trickle of blood traced a path down his neck from the entry wound, staining his blue sweater. The exit wound wasn't especially big, but it was big enough to be gruesome. In his hand, he held a picture of himself and Lenalee, the both of them smiling at the camera as the small girl hung on to her brother's neck, never letting go. The Texan stepped away from the body, placing the revolver on the floor underneath the Branch Chief's hand. With that, he left, leaving behind a whole, destroyed world that would soon come toppling down on the heads of those who had once inhabited it.

* * *

"What's going on? Why are they moving Lavi?" Lenalee asked, her face holding an expression of confusion as she watched nurses roll Lavi and all the equipment keeping him alive into another room with a steel door and two chairs on either side. Allen and Link were walking at a furious pace to keep up with them, Evan clinging to Allen's neck as he peered over his shoulder with his big eyes.

"Lee-lee! Lee-lee!" he said, practically bouncing as he pointed to Lenalee, and Allen looked behind him. He blinked and he said, "Actually, I'm just about to find that out - hey! Wait for me, Link!" The young man hurried to keep up with the CROW member, and Lenalee also sped up her pace as she watched her Bookman friend disappear behind the thick, steel door. The room was usually reserved for dignitaries or cardinals who were injured and needed protection while staying at the Order's rehabilitation and infirmary center. Lenalee followed suit behind Allen as the nurses began to rewire all of the equipment, and she asked in an exasperated voice, "What is going on? You guys have been acting really weird lately. Especially you, Link."

The blonde man only stared at Lenalee for a few moments before collapsing into a chair and rubbing his face wearily. Allen sat down in another chair, and Lenalee continued to stand. Link looked up, and he stated, "What I am about to tell you must not go to anyone. I don't know all the details on what's currently happening, but I know that you might be in danger. After we leave, we need to send a message to Komui. I'll contact Lily and tell her to rela some information to him." Allen nodded slowly, deciding to take the older man's word for it. Lenalee was more skeptical.

"Link, why can't you just spit it out? What's going on? Why is my brother involved?" Lenalee asked. Lavi held the same question in his one eye, flickering his sight between Lenalee and Link. Finally, Link said, "Okay, look, Eve is not who she seems. She's not a real human." Allen's brow furrowed as he put Evan down.

"Not a real human...? Like a Second Exorcist?" he asked, and Link nodded. He sighed, and he said, "She was part of a project that kickstarted the Second Exorcist Program. Without it, Kanda wouldn't even exist right now. Or, if he did, he'd be a lot younger because it would've started much later. It's one of those things that the Vatican want to keep hush hush because the reason behind it originally was for medicinal purposes. Those purposes twisted into two different directions - immortality and the perfect soldier. That's all I know. It was called the Evening Star Project. So far as I know, Komui was one of the younger supervisors who overlooked all the foundation plans for it, and when he became Branch Chief, he helped the Evening Star Project work with the Second Exorcist Program. Both were disasters and both are dangerous to the Vatican's reputation - or, more accurately, the reputation of certain cardinals who would rather this remain a secret."

"Why haven't we heard of this earlier?" Lenalee asked quietly. Link gave a harsh laugh, and he stated, "The same reason why you didn't hear about the Second Exorcist Program. They've buried the two separate incidents, so to speak. They must've either paid off the scientists who were working the project, or they killed them off silently one by one. My guess is Komui didn't take the money, but he decided to stay quiet. Now that this has all happened, the flare up might catch him, and he could be in danger just because he was so close by. It'll look like he orchestrated it all." Lenalee nodded.

"I'll go tell him, then," Lenalee said, but Lavi made a grunting noise of distress. Lenalee turned back to him, and she asked, "Lavi, what is it?" The redhead made motions to indicate writing, and Link took out his notepad and pen. Lavi quickly scribbled a sentence. Lenalee read it to herself.

"_You could be in danger right now. I was attacked by a man with a thick American accent. I think it's already started. _But, Lavi, what about Komui? He's in danger right now, too! More than I am!" Lenalee said. Lavi stared at her pleadingly, and he gestured for the pen and pad back. He scribbled something else.

"_Your brother can handle himself. He would rather you stay with us. We need to warn Eve and Kanda. They are in the most danger. _I don't know how we'll get a message to them, though, without alerting the Vatican. The Ark is monitored twenty four seven and clearance is needed to use it. They already know where Kanda and Eve are..." Lenalee realized, her eyes widening. Suddenly, Allen coughed rather obviously, smiling sheepishly. They stared at him for a moment... and then -

"Oh! I forgot! I'm so sorry Allen, it's just... it's been a while since - " Lenalee said, but she was cut off by Allen's laugh.

"No, no it's fine. I know, I know, I haven't tried to summon an Ark opening for a while. I can do it right here, though, and no one would be the wiser," Allen stated. He looked over at Lavi, and he winced. But, of course, Lavi couldn't go with them. He wasn't in a good enough condition to go with them, not yet. He couldn't hardly even breathe, much less walk. Lavi, noticing the wince, retorted, "Doctor... says I... walk in... two days. Just... breathing... problems." Allen gave a sad smile to Lavi. How poor a state his friends were in. He'd thought that the time for danger had passed. Apparently, that was not so.

"When can we go?" Link asked. Allen shrugged, and he said, "Right now, if you want. We can just leave. Of course, we'll have to post someone here to watch Lavi -"

"I can get Crowley to watch Lavi."

"Hey! I...am not... a baby."

"No, you're just an invalid practically strapped to a bed who can't hardly hold a pen in his hand."

"..."

As they bickered, Lenalee looked out the window, the thick glass almost distorting the view of the forest. Evan tugged on her pant leg, his eyes doleful and sad. She frowned and asked Evan, "What's wrong, honey? What's the matter?" Evan only motioned to be picked up, and Lenalee smiled, holding him in her arms. The small boy grasped at her, and Lenalee realized that she was holding him more for her sake than his.

* * *

Kanda stumbled along the cracked stones of the floor, hardly noticing as he looked up into the large antechamber he had led the rest of the group to. His eyes narrowed as he noted the crack in the ceiling, a massive hole gaping and allowing light into the room. It was overgrown with plants, and Eve sighed a sound of disappointment.

"There's no way those corpses are going to be in any condition to be examined," she muttered. China, being in Asia, could be particularly rainy in monsoon season, and the amount of foliage that had managed to creep into this section of the underground complex meant that it'd been receiving moisture for years. The corpses would, no doubt, have decomposed to near nothing after all that time. Kanda touched the plants in the room, recognize quite a few of them. Some of them were even rare plants, perhaps having grown best underneath the ground, yet receiving just enough water and sunlight from the hole in the ceiling to flourish. He frowned as he ran his fingers over a particularly verdant plant with purple, full-throated flowers.

"Kanda, we need your help over here. Is this what all of them hung on?" Chaoji grunted as he began to lift away large pieces of rubble. His wristbands jingled, and Kanda noticed that here, in this room, it was as if all his senses were acute. Everything was brighter, fuller, in this room, and yet here his pain had really, _really _begun. Kanda's fist tightened as he pushed away the thought of those events which had taken place here. He couldn't dwell on the past. He had to keep moving forward if he wanted to survive.

Alma would've told him to keep moving forward.

"Yeah, that's it," Kanda said quietly, staring up at the rack which had held the remains of several Exorcists. Kanda walked forwards, looking at what had once been Innocence shrines. They were little more than decayed capsules now, the bodies mummified under thick layers of bandages and spell tags. He frowned, however, as he noted the pristine condition they were in. The smell of rank flesh met his nose, and he realized that a few had been crushed in the earthquake. The smell was coming from the body under the bandages, exposed to the air. Kanda felt sick suddenly as his body went rigid, his head slowly turning to the capsule to his right.

Instinct told him that his body was right there next to him. He felt his body tremble as he edged closer to it, the bundle looking hardly touched in all these years. He knelt next to it, wondering what he would find.

"Don't unwrap them," Bookman suddenly ordered, and Kanda stayed his hand. It hovered over the bandages of the bundle, and he wondered if he should listen or not.

"We'll use an X-ray first on them. And then, we'll take samples from what we can. These spell tags must've kept them preserved, and the bandages might've had embalming fluid on them as well, and the bodies themselves were probably kept preserved... This is amazing. I don't believe it. They're still intact," Eve said, her voice almost awed as she knelt next to a body. Kanda couldn't share her enthusiasm however. He heard a sound, and he turned his head slowly, the vertebrae of his neck seeming to crack with the movement. Out of the corner of his eye, someone ran, and a tinkling voice followed after. Kanda was suddenly thrown into a memory, and he seemed trapped in it.

They were running. Just running around, doing what best friends usually did - play. In this room full of bodies, never realizing what exactly they were until it was too late.

Kanda jerked back into the present, the ghost of images past flickering through his brain, overshadowing things that he was seeing now. His breath seemed to catch in his throat as his eyes widened, catching a glimpse of a very young Alma hiding behind a pillar. And yet, this Alma didn't have the same goofy look on his face. He was somber, almost sad. He shook his head, went behind the pillar -

Kanda almost stood up and ran after him, but he realized that he was hallucinating. He'd watched Alma die - twice. He swallowed, realizing that this must be the start of madness. He had to pull himself together. He had to keep a grip on reality. He couldn't help himself if he lost his mind.

Out of the edge of his hearing, he heard something again, but it was like someone was shouting at the end of a very long tunnel. The sound sharpened as it was repeated, and Kanda realized that Chaoji was shouting.

"KANDA! HELP, PLEASE?" Kanda's head snapped around so fast, he was in danger of snapping a vertebrae. His eyes widened as he saw Eve kneeling on the floor, hands around her stomach as she began to dry retch. Chaoji was crouching next to her, holding her up while Bookman furrowed his brow from the entrance to the room. Kanda scrambled over the rubble to the downed doctor, but as soon as he reached her, she suddenly spat up something red, globby, and disgusting. Kanda backed up hastily, nearly tripping over a body. His shoes were splattered with the stuff, and Chaoji made a gagging noise as Eve threw up again.

Kanda frowned as he realized what exactly she was vomitting. Blood... food, obviously, and... Kanda's eyes widened. A large chunk of pinkish-red slid across the floor, and Kanda shied away from it. She was expelling her _stomach lining. _Chaoji was having a handful as Eve thrashed, her attempts at talking only turning into guttural grunts and wet noises. She began to throw up again, and this time Kanda took action.

"We have to get her back to the main room," Kanda said. Chaoji looked bewildered and terrified as he asked, "What's going on? What's wrong with her?"

"Not now! Come on, move!" Kanda ushered the man to his feet as Eve began to scream, holding her arm close to her body. They led Eve away, going through the hallway towards the main anteroom. They set her down on a bedroll, and Bookman seemed to materialize near them.

"Hold her down. She'll tear herself apart at this rate," the old man said before disappearing among the stacks of crates. Kanda and Chaoji did their best to subdue the thrashing woman, and Kanda let out a sound of disgust as he pried Eve's arm away from the rest of her body. It had begun to bubble and rip, blood seeming to froth out of the wounds. Eve was screaming, her eyes filling with tears and spilling over. She kicked her legs, knocking Kanda in the head with her knee, and clocking Chaoji in the shoulder with her foot.

"Damn, she's strong!" Chaoji cursed as she began to beg. Kanda felt a burst of sympathy as she pleaded for someone to kill her.

"Please! Kill me! SOMEONE KILL ME! STOP IT! MAKE IT STOP!" Kanda put his knee to her stomach, hoping to hold down one shoulder with his hand and her leg with the other, but she suddenly coughed blood, and Kanda realized that that had not been the best idea. He was splattered with gore by now, pieces of Eve's arm coming off and slipping in his hand. Revulsion turned in his stomach, but he attempted to keep it tamped down.

Bookman arrived again with two hypodermic needles filled with two separate colored liquids. He injected the first dose swiftly and the second right after. After another five minutes of thrashing, Eve slowly calmed down, her breathing coming in quick gasps. She was shaking, cradling her damaged arm as she lay still. Kanda stared at her for a while, realizing that this, or something like this, would happen to him regularly. How had she suddenly degenerated so fast?

"She must not have taken her dose today," Bookman speculated, trashing the two needles into a waste bin. He looked down at the woman on the bed roll with a look akin to pity. He shook his head as he stated, "Chaoji, we have work to do. Come. Kanda, clean her up. I'll talk to the two of you later." Chaoji looked back at Eve with a look of worry before hesitantly following behind Bookman. Kanda was left alone with Eve, and the silence was deafening. He left and came back with a small, metal pan and a rag, and he began to wipe the blood off of Eve's mouth. He followed the curve of her jaw, and he felt his eyes tighten as another memory hit him.

_Another woman, another life, another place in time. _

He gripped the rag, water running through his fingers as he stared at Eve's slack face. Her eyes fluttered open lazily, and she turned to look at him.

"You didn't... kill me... when I... asked," Eve whispered. Kanda frowned and he said, "You know I wouldn't have killed you. You're too important to kill. Besides, a little thing like pain hasn't stopped you before." Eve rocked her head back into position to stare at the ceiling, and she breathed deep, wincing as she did so. She coughed, blood flecking her lips, and Kanda looked away for a moment. He felt that revulsion again, sitting in his stomach like a lead snake. They both were so close to death. They were nothing more than walking corpses.

Kanda continued to clean her face and neck, removing her lab coat, and, finally, reaching her nearly decimated arm. He gingerly lifted it, watching Eve's face for any sign of pain. Eve gave no reaction, and he set the arm in his lap, washing off the blood and ripped pieces of skin. He tried to curb his disgust as blood pooled on his legs, and he realized that Eve would need stitches. How long was she going to hold up like this? How long would _he _hold up if he ended up like this? He'd already lost several limbs, but they were reattached, and they'd also been numb to start out with. Eve had been very much in pain, if her screaming had been anything to go by.

"How is she?" a voice asked, and Kanda looked up at Bookman. The samurai gave a shrug.

"She's still alive. She's not in pain, either," Kanda said, gesturing to the arm in his lap. He gently placed it back at her side, and the two of them stared at the woman on the pallet, her hair splayed around her head. Her face shone with a veneer of sweat, and she suddenly looked sick in the dim lights of the lamps they'd set around the camp. Her hair was short again, laying fine on the bedroll as she began to mutter in her sleep.

Kanda frowned, and he wondered what she could be saying. Bookman knelt next to her, and he listened close.

"Go away... she needs to go away... they... need to go... away..." Kanda felt his face darken. What needed to go away? Why? Was she just delirious? Kanda placed a hand over her forehead, and he realized that she was running a fever. All of this, so fast... Why was she running a fever in the first place? If Kanda recalled correctly, a fever was the body's attempt at completely eradicating a disease by overheating it. Eve didn't have a disease; she was decomposing.

Everything was just getting more and more confusing. Bookman did the same as Kanda relinquished his hand and told him, "She's hot and feverish. We should probably give her something to keep her body temperature down." Bookman nodded, and he left again. Kanda suddenly wondered how Bookman suddenly became so good at the medical profession. Suddenly, something grabbed his hand, and he nearly jerked it away from the cold clamminess pressed against it, but he realized that it was Eve who'd grabbed it.

Her eyes were barely open, her vision lucid. Kanda stared at her for several more moments. She turned her head away, ashamed of having to hold on to someone else. Kanda gripped her hand, and she didn't turn her head back to look at him.

_Are you scared? Of death? _The question came back to him, and he realized why she'd asked that question. She'd had to find a way to tell someone. Anyone. Her hand began to fall slack, and he realized that she'd gone to sleep. He was amazed that she'd even been able to touch him, what with her hand torn up as it was. Kanda awkwardly placed her hand back at her side, feeling wrong to be holding it while she was asleep.

"Kanda, we have visitors," Bookman said, and Kanda looked up. His eyes widened as he stared at three new people. How had they...?

Allen stared at Eve's shaken frame with blatant amazement while Link glanced around the compound nervously. Lenalee was talking with Bookman in low tones.

"What... what are you three doing here?" Kanda asked. Link sighed, and he said, "Bookman and I have some explaining to do." Kanda frowned.

"Bookman? What's going on?" Kanda asked. He'd known that there was something more happening behind the scenes other than just his own decomposition and Eve's, but this was getting more and more tangled together. Link squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to block out the image of Eve and her pitiful form on the ground.

"Later. Once we have Komui here, too, we can fill in the details," Link said, and he glanced around nervously.

"Can't you give me at least a once-over on what this is all about?" Kanda asked in a loud voice, and Allen stepped back in surprise. He hadn't thought that Kanda could get that loud in his state.

Link looked at him warily before finally saying, "She's in a mess along with you. It seems that the Evening Star Project had a few bugs that they passed along to you. We figure out her problem, we can figure out yours, and vice versa."

"We already know my problem. Cell regeneration is failing - "

"But you don't know why. That's the problem." Link finally sighed as he sat on a crate nearby, and he stated, "This isn't about a cure anymore. Even if you two manage to survive this, you'll both end up dead because someone killed you." Kanda's eyes widened. They didn't even wait for them to exit the frying pan before pitching them into the fire.

"All right, so what does that mean? What do you suppose we do?" Kanda asked seriously. Eve turned her head towards Kanda, and she said, "I... have an idea." Kanda stared at her.

"You shut up. You have no room to talk. You're sick," he quipped, idly placing his hand over her mouth. She looked absolutely indignant, but there wasn't much she could do other than slap his arm. Link sighed, and he stated, "We get all of the other at-risk people together, and we hide them. We stow you two somewhere safe, probably an underground lab like this one - there's an Asian branch in India because of how big it is, and they'll hide you there without breathing a word. I can pull a few strings."

"And then what?" Allen asked. Link steepled his fingers, thinking hard.

"And then we wait." It was an insufficient answer, at least to the two who happened to be most involved. Link and Kanda looked at each other, sharing a look, before Link stood up and he said, "Allen, we should set up camp for ourselves. I'll contact base, and we'll get the ball rolling on Komui." Allen nodded, and he immediately stood up. The Exorcist walked away, leaving Link to stand there with a far off look. Kanda looked at the blonde man, wondering what was going on in his head. There was something rattling around in that man's head, and he wasn't sure what it was. That made him nervous.

Finally, Link walked away, leaving Kanda and Eve. Kanda himself was about to leave, but he felt a hand tighten on his forearm. He looked down at Eve, that hard glint in her eyes as well as the turmoil of mixed emotions. It was silent as she gripped his arm.

"...Don't leave me." It wasn't a plea or a suggestion or a desperate call for help. It was a command. It was born of fear, indignation, and, perhaps, loneliness. It was a loneliness that only the terminally ill and the slated-to-die could understand. And in that loneliness, an empathy could arise that had the potential to banish it.

And it seemed the both of them were grasping at that potential.

Kanda was silent, wondering if it was a good idea, but as he watched Eve shudder under the weight of a spike of pain, another spike of empathy stabbed him with agony. He swallowed and decided to stay. In a way, he couldn't stand to see her suffer, and he himself had begun to see shades of his own pain within her. He sighed to himself.

He was stuck with her. One way or another.

Later, Link would come back to see a snoozing samurai slumped over next to a very exhausted, similarly snoozing doctor.

* * *

"Lily, could you run this up to Komui?" Lily looked up, her neatly done hair only slightly frazzled by the day of work she'd had. She took a note from her fellow secretary, Jill, before looking back to Evan. Allen had asked that she watch him again, just for a few days. Lily hadn't asked about the details, knowing that sometimes Exorcist work was better kept silent. It was an unspoken agreement between the two. Lily picked up the baby for a moment, cooing at him. Lily hadn't scarcely seen Komui the entire day, seeing as he'd holed himself up in his office. It was strange, becuase usually he was asking for all sorts of things, from paper to markers to specific machine parts to a seamstress or a particular set of needles for sewing uniforms.

"You'll be a good boy, right, Evan? Hm, right? I'm going to go and see Mr. Komui now, all right? All right?" she said in a coo-coo voice. The baby suddenly stopped giggling and smiling, his face seeming to fall into a very somber look for a baby. He seemed to be shaking his head at her, his eyes strangely foreboding as he grabbed at her. He started to make distressed noises at Lily, clinging to the bodice of her dress, and Lily frowned.

"What's the matter, Evan? It's for a few minutes, you'll be fine," she said with a slight, nervous chuckle. She put Evan back down in his playpen next to her desk, and he leaned against the wall, his eyes looking unnervingly sad and knowing. Lily walked away with the note in hand with Evan's face in mind, that strange look following her down the hall.

"Lily! Delivering another message, I see? Or were you just rung in?" Lily looked towards the voice, standing nearly toe-to-toe with another pencil pusher. What was her name? Felicia! She was of average height and build, a very forgettable person honestly. Still, she was also the chief busybody and rumor mill worker, so she had to ask about everything. Lily answered, weighing her words carefully, "I'm delivering a message. Why?"

"Well, it just seems you're a favorite of his. I see you go in and out all day, so I was just curious. I mean, Beth _did _see you two coming out of that restuarant after working hours, and I had my curiosity piqued," she said perkily, and Lily suppressed the urge to groan. She _knew _that restuarant had been too out in the open. Secretaries did not date their bosses. It was a no-no. A taboo. An unspoken rule. It was tacky, and it was stuck up -

But Komui was such a good person. He genuinely cared for those Exorcists, and under all of that silliness and childlike mania over robots and other assorted things, he was really very serious and very thoughtful in considerance to the people he worked over. Not only that, but he and Lily had developed... a sort of relationship, one that Lily wasn't sure she was willing to acknowledge. She hurried past Felicia, and she said, "Yes, well, that was a business meeting of sorts. We were speaking finances." That might've been stretching the truth a bit, but it couldn't hurt. They _were _originally talking finances before they got to the part where they started telling each other things they hadn't expected. Like how Komui was worried about his health and the fact he was still wifeless, and how Lily's father had passed away and that she missed him very, very much.

Lily looked at her feet as she walked down the long corridor towards Komui's office, trying to steel her expression into something professional. She'd worked for him for nearly three years, and they'd gotten close. She was his personal aide, and she liked her job. She was able to take care of him. Still, she was reviewing how she should behave, considering the fact that the dynamic of their relationship had suddenly taken a swift turn, especially seeing as he'd kissed her goodnight last night -

She pushed the thought out of her head. No, no, and no. They shouldn't have done that. He was only supposed to walk her to the front door of the Order, but it'd been late at night, and they were both frazzled and not in their right minds. Still... Lily sighed to herself, straightening up as she stood in front of his office door, note in hand.

She opened the door, and she stood there for a few moments, taking in the sight of the disarray and chaos that was usually Komui's office.

And then, she slumped to the floor in disbelief as she stared at the man that could've been something much more than just a good friend. Her breath caught in her throat, and she shook as she put her hands up to her mouth. Two letters were on his desk, and Komui's face was strangely serene despite the hole under his chin and the large wound out the back of his head.

A long, mournful, scary keening noise echoed through the halls of the Order as Komui Lee's body was discovered. Evan covered his face in his play pen, and he fell asleep.


	14. News

Link woke up to the sound of a golem ringing frantically. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, rubbing away at his face. The others were still asleep, most notably Kanda, who was sleeping sitting up next to Eve. He sighed to himself as he managed to haul himself over to the golem. He'd sent that message to Headquarters nearly twelve hours ago. It shouldn't have taken this long for it to get back. He was more peeved than anything else. Order bureaucracy was absolutely terrible. You had to fill out forms in triplicate just to use the bathroom, some days. He clicked the transmission button, and he asked, "Yes? Link Howard speaking." There were quiet sobs on the other end, and Link immediately felt lead fill his stomach. Sweat slicked his palms, and he could already tell that this wasn't going to be good.

"This is... is Lily Camden speaking, uh... Link, is that you? I have... unfortunate news." Lily sounded very distressed. Link couldn't imagine what could possibly shake the indomitable Lily. Any number of things could be happening at that moment.

"Is Evan okay?" Link asked, knowing that would probably be high on the list of things that could go wrong. The Texan wasn't above kidnapping children. Of course, whether he harmed them or not was up for debate. Lily took a deep, shuddering breath, and she stated, "No, no, Evan... Evan is fine. Link, Mr. Lee is dead." The news was delivered so efficiently and so without inflection that Link almost didn't believe it. However, the tremor in Lily's next words convinced him otherwise.

"He was found with a gunshot wound through the skull. The forensics department say it was suicide, but I don't believe that. He left two notes on his desk, one for me and one for Lenalee," Lily stated quietly, finally getting her voice back in control. Link rubbed his eyes, biting his lip as he thought of the implications. He was too late. Their message hadn't been delivered fast enough. It was obvious from Lily's tone that she didn't believe this was a suicide, and Link knew for a fact that it wasn't. The Texan had managed to get to him. And, if Komui had been his first target, that meant that Lavi might be next. He was the next person with the most knowledge besides Bookman, and the Texan was going to hit targets on their availability rather than their exact order of importance.

Link was honestly surprised that he'd been left out of the proceedings so far.

"Lily, how much do you know has been going on?" he asked. Lily was quiet. She finally stated, "Absolutely nothing. I have no idea."

"Good. Then stay where you are, and take Evan home with you. We may be gone for a lot longer than we expected." If this was how things were going to be, it may be months before everything was sorted out. That was, if Eve and Kanda had months. With the way that Eve was deteriorating, that was obviously not the case. Oddly enough, Kanda seemed to be holding on longer and better than Eve, despite his condition showing itself much sooner. Then again, Eve's condition had been going on for much, much, much longer...

"Link? What's going on?"

"It's best that you not know. I'm trying to keep you safe, Ms. Lily. I apologize about Mr. Lee's death. I recognize you were... close," Link said, expressing real regret. The last few days of Komui's life had been a little brighter than usual, filled with a childlike glee that they hadn't seen in months. Link had the idea that Ms. Lily had a lot to do with that shift. There had been rumors before he left that they'd gone out for dinner for a night. He'd been thinking that it was about time that Komui settled down and started a family, but obviously this was no longer going to be the case.

"Yes... Well... alright. I'll be sure to keep an eye on Evan. Please do stay safe. Would you inform... inform Ms. Lee of the current situation?"

Oh dear Lord, what was Link going to say to Lenalee? The girl would break. With the pressure already pushing on her about her friends and their condition, hearing about the death of her brother may send her over the deep end. She'd already gone to therapy multiple times to deal with certain aspects of the last missions she'd gone on. She'd just begun recovering.

"Yes. I will."

"What current situation?"

Link nearly jumped out of his skin as Lenalee walked over. She must've woken up at the sound of their talking. She obviously didn't know what they were talking about, but she had a worried look on her face that told him she knew something wasn't right.

Link swallowed slowly, and he answered, "Keep in touch, Lily. Tell us what you can."

"Of course."

The line clicked shut. The silence was thick as Link tried to think of what they should do. Finally, he told Lenalee, "Go wake everyone up. We need to have an emergency meeting."

* * *

Link looked at everybody, eyeing their expressions. Allen looked groggy, no doubt tired from having to use the Ark, and Kanda looked disgruntled as always. Chaoji and Bookman didn't seem worse for wear, though Bookman wore an expression that nearly shouted worry. Obviously he thought this was probably about his apprentice. Eve was asleep - they couldn't risk interrupting her rest. And Lenalee, of course, looked uneasy. Link took a large breath as he tried to compose himself.

"I am... sorry to inform you that... Komui Lee is dead," Link said slowly, his voice reverberating around the room. Everyone was shocked into silence. Even Kanda looked taken aback. Allen was the first to break the silence.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his gray eyes tightening. Link lowered his head, bangs falling in front of his face. The grief was still fresh, so fresh that a numbness had replaced any actual feeling. He knew that later, it would hit him full force, but for now it was kept at bay by the suddenness of the news.

"Yes. I just got word from Lily. This means that the hitman is moving faster than we thought, and he has more resources than we'd anticipated. Getting to Komui could not have been easy. The forensic team said suicide -"

"It wasn't suicide. My brother wouldn't - couldn't - kill himself," Lenalee suddenly said with trembling steel. Her eyes were filling with tears, spilling over on to her cheeks. Her hands shook, and she angrily wiped the tears away as she spat, "He had plenty of opportunities earlier in the war to off himself, but he chose not to. I don't see why he would've done it now, not when he was so... so close to the end of all this. It had to be murder." Allen put an arm around her shoulder, and she held his hand tightly, looking into her lap. Even Kanda appeared to be contemplating some sort of show of support for the young woman as she suddenly dissolved into tears. The sound of crying bounced around the chamber.

"What do we do now?" Kanda asked. It was surprising to hear such a question come out of Kanda's mouth. He was usually the one to take charge and find the best solution. The years had humbled him, obviously, but so had his condition. He knew they needed an expert.

"Find a way to fix you and Eve, obviously. And hide you. They won't stop until you're dead," Bookman stated. "Organizations have gotten rid of members for less than your transgression - that being your very existence." Kanda crossed his arms. Link noted that he was looking much better since the last time he'd seen him, though the silver streaks in his hair spoke volumes about the havoc being wreaked on his body by his deterioration. He was still stiff as an old man, moving slowly and carefully. He moved like Eve these days - with great thought to every action.

"And what exactly is it about our existence that's made them so antsy?" Kanda asked, his tone turning defensive and gruff. Link immediately bristled at the man's indignation. It was a habit that had refused to die. Link and Kanda had never been the best of friends.

"The Evening Star Project and the Second Exorcist Programs were, quite frankly, embarrassments. They figured you'd both die out eventually, and their problems would be solved. Now it's clear that that's not the case, and Eve must be getting close to figuring out some sort of treatment for the both of you. Now they're getting nervous again. Everyone who'd been a part of those projects are either dead or paid off, and obviously just about everyone involved with the Second Exorcist Program is no longer among the living," Link explained, noting the wince Kanda made at the last comment. He hated to drive it home so hard, but it was true. As much as they didn't like to talk about it, anybody and everybody from the Second Exorcist Program had died at Alma's hand, and it was only Kanda's luck and skill that had saved him from the same fate.

"What _is _the Evening Star Project, anyways? Everyone keeps talking about it, but I haven't foggiest idea of what it is," Allen asked with a deep sigh. Lenalee was still recovering from her bout of sobbing, and she looked significantly better now that they had a different topic to focus on.

"Yes, that's been bugging me, too. I was too young to understand what it was whenever I was a young girl. Komui was helping with it, I think," Lenalee offered, and Link nodded. He glanced over Kanda's shoulder, eyeing the sleeping woman who was restlessly moving about. Link honestly couldn't tell them what it was in detail. He knew he'd explained the very gist of it at the hospital.

"I can shed some light on this, then," Bookman stated. They stared at the aging clan leader, almost holding their breath. It seemed that the great secret was about to be revealed. Even Link didn't know the whole story, and a small, intelligent part of him was saying that he didn't want to, either. Kanda was especially tense. This was the beginning of his own story, after all. From this experiment, the Second Exorcist Project was made possible. Not to mention, Eve's enigma might finally be solved.

"The Evening Star project started several years before the Second Exorcist Project began. Their aim was a full body transplant of a person, in this case Eve Rothschild, the adopted daughter of Dr. Rothschild, who was the parent of the organization. The aim was immortality - Eve was a woman who was almost thirty years old, yet her body was physiologically trapped at seven or eight years of age. People with that disorder don't live for very long," Bookman explained. Kanda's eyes flickered behind him to the sleeping woman he'd had to put up with for the past couple of months. She sure didn't look like she was seven or eight...

Obviously, with more to the story, Bookman continued, "The project was long and ongoing, and the magic used as the means towards the end was... less than holy. Their early attempts were not very good. The experiments almost always regressed into just a mass of cells. Eventually, they managed to keep together the entire human, but after about two months the newly formed human began to show signs of decay and rapid dissolution. The average shelf life was only a few months. At this stage, Eve and Dr. Rothschild began to grow frantic. Eve had not been able to find a good vessel to transplant into, and she was dying.

"So, in a last ditch effort, they tried something different. Rather than use Eve's own cells as the basal clone cells, they took dead ones from her sister, with whom Eve had an obsession. Eve's sister, Ruth, had died early in life, sometime in her twenties, and it had been Eve's idea to use her body cells. That clone was kept for a longer period of time inside of the incubation tank. It took a lot of magic and a lot of science to get it to work, but by proving that it could be done, the Second Exorcist Program was also born at the same time. A successful clone was finally created, one who looked almost identical to Eve's sister, Ruth."

Bookman took a break, staring at the ground. His face looked pensive, almost sad, as he considered his next words. Link felt dread settle in his gut. He may not have known the particulars of how or why the Evening Star Project had started, but he certainly knew how it had ended.

It was not a happy ending.

"And what happened after that?" Allen asked quietly, his hushed voice echoing in the wide, stone chamber. Bookman clasped his hands in his lap.

"In late January of that year, the entirety of the project's aim was made known to the Vatican, and the Vatican, who'd sanctioned the project, immediately called for its liquidation. Immortality was taboo, completely and utterly. Though Eve was trying to save her own life, she had had plans to create more and more bodies, held in reserve by preserving them with spells, in order to continually transplant herself whenever she had reached the end of her current body's lifespan. She was a bright woman - so bright, in fact, that Eve almost surpassed Dr. Rothschild as a physician and researcher. However, brightness does not equal foresight," Bookman stated wearily. He looked to Link, and the young man straightened in his chair.

"I can finish the rest," Howard said, knowing that Bookman's voice must be tired from so much talking. Aware of the eyes riveted to him, he quickly started in on his own section of the tale.

"The CROW were dispatched to the project's location in order to apprehend those working on it and to destroy all clones still being created. At the time, clones were considered less than people. We had no idea that they possessed such... humanlike qualities. No offense to you, Kanda."

The answer was a swift hand signal that would be familiar in New York at rush hour.

"Anyhow... as the CROW began dispatching the clones, we realized that we had not found either Dr. Rothschild or Eve. When they finally found the two, the scene was... confusing. It appeared that there had been a transplant done, but we were not sure if it had happened or not. Eve and the clone that was supposed to be her body were both on the floor. The doctor was found separate from the two. Dr. Rothschild had been killed by his own creations; we found him torn apart in the clone pens. They found that Eve Rothschild was dead after a cursory medical check, and the clone was still alive. Both their skulls had been capped at some point, and then the skulls were replaced and healed by magic," Link said, pausing for breath. It was a sordid story. Link himself had not been there, but he'd known CROW who had. The massacre - that was the word that he'd used, "massacre" - was a lesson in brutality.

"The clone had lost all memory of who she was or who she was supposed to be. If she is Eve Rothschild, she has no memory of her time in her last body. If she is not, she is merely using the name as a convenient handle. Her body has held up for a good thirty years or so, stuck at about age twenty-five. Now, the body is deteriorating. That is why she needs you, Kanda," Link finished, gesturing to the Japanese Exorcist. His eyes revealed none of the emotions cycling within him, and Link had not expected them to give up their depths.

"What does this mean for us, though? Why would someone want to kill Komui over something like this?" Chaoji asked quietly. There was a heavy silence.

"Loose ends. That's all. Komui contributed some of his skills during the Second Exorcist programs. It would have looked like he'd arranged this whole debacle. Two of the Vatican's failures meet at the same time; eventually someone's going to draw a conclusion. There are particular cardinals who'd kill to keep it quiet. This would look very... compromising," Link sighed sadly. It was terrible that someone had to die just for church politics, especially someone as ironically impartial as Komui.

"We will be hunted. That is why I suggest we hide in the Indian Sub-continent. We will still be able to conduct research while staying under the protection of the Indian branch. They are loyal to their own. I have a few contacts," Bookman grumbled in low tones. "Besides, Eve needs medical attention, something that we, quite frankly, cannot give in a detailed sense."

"We can leave tomorrow at first light. Allen, you been to India before?" Link asked, and Allen suddenly went into a dark stupor.

"Master... elephants... a mallet..." he grumbled, hoping to jog Link's memory. The CROW's eyes widened, and he coughed politely into his fist. Ah, yes, uh, his experiences had been... unfavorable. Lenalee gently coaxed Allen out of the circle to go to bed before he blew an artery, and it seemed like a silent cue had gone out. The group disbanded for their respective bunks, their thoughts roiling in each of their minds.

* * *

Laughter resounded, and Kanda's eyes flashed open. He quickly sat up, soon regretting the action as his back creaked in protest. He really _was _getting to be like an old man. He rubbed his face, trying to find the source of the noise. It was incongruous with the black news they'd received yesterday, and Kanda shivered as he realized that he was freezing. More and more often, he noticed that his extremities were going numb, and he was cold all of the time. Eve had explained it to him - something about poor circulation.

Speaking of whom, he looked over next to him. She was still asleep, looking uncertain and vulnerable. She twitched in her sleep, muttering under her breath now and again. Kanda's sleep had been mostly undisturbed, but it was clear that Eve had night demons to contend with. He thought of waking her, but he thought better of it.

However, he didn't need to wake her. Her eyes slowly opened, staring at him almost apprehensively. Her breathing quickened as she woke, and very slowly she began to sit up. Her back creaked, and Kanda could hear every crack of bone. He winced, knowing he himself sounded like a Chinese firecracker going off every time he got out of bed.

"Hi," was all she said.

Kanda grunted back.

The silence lasted a little longer as Eve sat there, staring at her hands. For what seemed like an eternity, the silence dragged on. Laughter resounded again, the high pitched tenor of a young boy reverberating on the walls. Kanda's head whipped around, looking for the noise despite the fact he knew it no longer existed, besides in the annals of his own mind. He took a deep breath.

"You're hearing them too, aren't you?" Eve asked quietly. Kanda didn't answer.

"It seems like it gets louder every day," Eve confided as she drew her knees to her chest. She stared out across the open expanse of the womb room. She gave a dark chuckle.

"Sometimes, I wonder if its my sisters laughing at me... or if it's the clones who never made it. Sometimes they went down that way. Laughing," Eve stated, her voice petering out at the end. Kanda finally turned to look at her. Tears were dripping down her face slowly, as if she were a leaky faucet would only allow a drop at a time. Her facial expression never changed from that odd, dissonant look of serenity. It was as if she were a vacant statue in the rain.

"They told you. About me," she said haltingly. Kanda continued to stare at her, not willing to mouth a single word. She continued.

"I don't even know who I am, Kanda. I don't know if I'm Eve Rothschild, the woman who'd killed the person who was basically her sister, or Genetic Experiment 4837, the clone who'd killed the person who was supposed to take her body. I can't remember anything besides confusion," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat, a rare sign of emotion.

"If what they say is true, you're almost fifty years old," Kanda stated. If the Evening Star project had happened before the Second Apostle Program, she had to be at least forty. She still looked as if she were in the prime of life, but the lines in her face and the decimated mess of her arm spoke of the deterioration wreaking havoc on the inside.

Eve was quiet. She didn't answer. Unlike Kanda, who was biologically only sixteen years old, Eve had lived what could be described as a fairly long life, at least for her sort.

But, then again, she had supplemented her youth. Medication had kept the breakdown at bay. Now, it was rushing her with the force of a tsunami. Kanda did not have the luxury of experience and longevity. If anything, his situation was more heartrending.

"When I finally awoke, it had been twenty years since the project began," Eve sighed. "I was in a state of stasis. I could do that again, maybe lengthen my life until someone could find a treatment, but..." She looked at him guiltily. Kanda had figured she would've thought about doing that once or twice, but the little sense of honor she had begged to differ. She would be sentencing Kanda to death on a very slim chance at recovery.

"Could I be put in stasis?" Kanda asked. Eve looked down at her hands again. The fingernails of one hand were almost completely gone. A bloody tooth lay next to her bed roll, no doubt spat out right after her spasm.

"I have no idea. Even if we did go into stasis, there is no guarantee that someone will wake us back up. We'd be sitting ducks besides," Eve stated, business-like. This was a topic she was more familiar with. Kanda figured it was safe for him too. No messy emotions to deal with.

"Did you find anything from my corpse?" Kanda asked seriously, staring at her. She shrugged.

"I didn't have a chance to truly study it. It was incredibly well-preserved, I'll give it that. Hopefully, Bookman had it wrapped up again. I'd hate to have such a good specimen decaying - no offense," Eve said quickly, realizing that she was talking about, specifically, Kanda's dead body. He didn't give it any thought, though. Still, it was odd to know that he had once been a completely different person.

There was a knock on a pillar, and both looked up. Chaoji stood nervously to the side, his eyes flickering back and forth between the two as if gauging what they were doing, whether it be amorous conversation to heated debate to flippant snarking. Realizing it was safe, Chaoji said, "We're ready to leave now. Allen's got everything packed, and the gate should be open soon. We'll be taking the, uh... the specimen with us."

The Chinese man's eyes flickered nervously to Kanda as he made mention of the cadaver they were taking with them. Eve paid it no mind, and she nodded, business as usual.

"I won't need a stretcher, but I _will _need to keep off food for a while, at least until my stomach lining can grow back. Kanda and I also must take our usual treatment. Hopefully, Bookman has a few healing spells up his sleeve," Eve said, slowly getting to her feet. She motioned for Kanda to stand, and the other man did so rather painfully. Both of them looked like arthritic geriatrics. Kanda winced as he heard his knee pop.

"Well, no time like the present. Let's get moving," Eve stated.

* * *

India was muggier than he remembered. It was made even worse by the fact that he was wearing _women's clothing. _

"Trust me, it will probably save your life. If there's anything that the Indians are uncomfortable looking at, it's an invalid woman. If the shoe fits, wear it," Link muttered to him as the blonde CROW member spurred on their two oxen. The medical equipment was hidden under a myriad of tarps, guarded over by the ever vigilant Chaoji, and Allen and Lenalee had taken safety precautions by splitting from the main group. Eve, of course, was also dressed in the same garb as Kanda, and the two of them huddled near the medical equipment, pretending to be in pain.

They really didn't have to pretend. The bumpy road played havoc on all of their joints. It was as if every pothole they went over seemed to reach to the center of the earth, they bounced so high. Kanda could swear he'd felt his hip socket split when they'd hit massive hole in Delhi.

"How much farther?" Kanda grumbled for what seemed like the umpteenth time.

"Patience," Link rumbled back ominously, keeping his eyes peeled. Kanda sank lower into his many, many layers of clothes. He felt like he was melting. His heart was racing already because of the adrenaline racing through his system from fear of capture, and he was sweating like a bad cheese in a hot, French kitchen. His stomach felt like it was attempting to escape through his belly button, and he couldn't stand the smells effervescing around him. Manure, bad fruit, and the smell of human bodies reached his nose as they entered yet another town, and Kanda's stomach growled in protest.

"You'd better not throw up on me," Eve spat.

"You're not worth throwing up on," Kanda countered vehemently as he tried to keep his stomach under control. However, he did see something out of the corner of his eye, something anomalous to their surroundings...

"Link, at your four o' clock, do you see anything weird?" Kanda asked, ducking his head deeper into his scratchy, wool hood. For the love of Peter, it was hot!

"What are you - That's a CROW member. How did they find us so fast?" Link muttered under his breath, spurring on the oxen. They lumbered faster, going from a snail's trot to a turtle's canter. It seemed to take an eternity just to switch lanes. They had to weave between other carts, people walking through the streets with their wares, and beggars waylaying others in their bid for alms.

"Does it really matter how they found us? Just get us out of here," Kanda ordered rather brusquely, putting a hand on the hilt of his sword. Deteriorating or not, Kanda could still take a CROW member full-on. However, whether or not he'd come back in one piece was another question.

"What's going on?" Eve asked with a touch of real concern in her voice. Kanda shook his head.

"Just stay down and out of sight. It's nothing." The CROW that had been trailing them disappeared into the myriad of people, and Kanda felt apprehension tickle the back of his neck.

"Hurry it up. He just disappeared. I think he's on to us," Kanda muttered.

"Don't you think you're overreacting?" Link wondered, though he _did _speed up.

"Who is the most likely to dispatch a rogue Exorcist at the behest of the Vatican? It certainly isn't one of the few Exorcists back at base," Kanda conjectured as he kept his eyes out for the CROW. His face was mostly covered by a shawl and hood, but his eyes weren't exactly easy to hide. Most Indians were dark-eyed as it was, but Kanda's eyes were pieces of gray-black jet set into his face. Of course, with the onset of his deterioration, his eyes were now cloudy, and perhaps that would mask the color.

"I'm surprised you managed to catch something like that from so far away. Your eyesight hasn't been the best," Link noted rather sardonically. Kanda winced. Upon their leaving, Kanda had walked smack-dab into a metal exercise bar right outside. The worst thing about it was that he was less than five inches away before turning and hitting it. He was lucky he hadn't broken his nose. Allen had nearly died laughing.

"I can't read things up close. So sue me," Kanda said. He rubbed his arm, feeling goosebumps.

And then, suddenly, his stomach began to royally misbehave. The man sank deeper into his seat. He _knew _he should've eaten anything but the curry!

"Um... we might need to stop," Kanda groaned miserably. Chaoji glanced back in confusion.

"But we just got going and the traffic's -"

_"We really should stop." _Kanda's already-pale skin had turned so white, he was nearly green. Eve was giving him worrying looks as she scooted to the other side of the cart.

"I think we should do as he says," Eve suggested hesitantly. Kanda held his hand in front of his mouth with a grim look of determination, and everyone aboard the wagon tried to contain their sudden dread. No way were they going to go riding another couple hours in a wagon that smelled like puke!

Ten minutes later, they'd stopped at a ditch by the road, and Kanda leaned over it, dry heaving. He'd evacuated all of the contents of his stomach, and it was continuing to revolt against him. In fact, if he hadn't known better he would've thought it was climbing out his esophagus at this point. Chaoji was watching over him as Link parked their cart around the corner. Kanda stood back up, leaning backwards with his hands on his hips, turning his head to the sky. It never rains, but it pours.

"Are you like this... all the time?" Chaoji asked hesitantly. Kanda looked at him from the corner of his eye, and his left eyelid twitched.

"Yes," he stated, disgruntled. Chaoji quickly averted his gaze as Kanda leaned back over and dry heaved.

When he was done, Kanda wiped his mouth quickly. He motioned for Chaoji to lead them back to the cart, and the Chinese man dutifully began to part the crowd. Kanda ducked his head, hiding under the thick darkness of his hood. Every step was agony to his stomach, but he had to keep going. Even though his joints felt like they were on fire and that the split in his leg was growing wider where'd broken the thing off, he had to continue walking to the cart. Once there, he could at least have some peace sitting down - at least, until the next pothole.

And, suddenly, Kanda was once again on the battlefield. Something inside of him, an instinct or an intuition, seemed to flip on. His body stiffened as he straightened up, his back popping as the vertebrae snapped together.

Quicker than Kanda thought he could move, his sword snapped out of its sheath, flashing around the crowds of people, and finally reaching its destination flat against the blade of a CROW.

Their eyes locked for a moment as Kanda's arm shook from the sheer force it took to keep their blades locked and steady. The crowd wandered around them without even noticing the altercation. Their blades were down low, out of sight against each other. Sweat dripped down Kanda's forehead and into his eyes, plastering his hair to his face. The CROW was dressed in standard Indian garb, blending in with the crowd.

"There are more of us," he said, his kohl-lined eyes unblinking. The CROW tried to extricate his knife, but to no avail. Kanda was too strong and too fast, even in his generally weakened state. However, his strength was waning. Though Kanda shifted to dodge the next strike, he very nearly let it get through his guard. Kanda smacked the back of the CROW's hand with the flat of his blade, and the knife jittered into the street. Several women screamed.

"We are everywhere," the CROW stated, his left hand flashing out with another knife, and Kanda blocked it with his hilt. The knife flashed again, and it went around Kanda. For that crucial few seconds, he lost sight of it. Already, he'd grabbed the sheath, bringing it up for a parry, but he was already being hauled out of the crowd by an unseen adversary. He flailed and thrashed, but the person who'd grabbed him was too strong. He was being carried through the crowd with the ease of sack of flour.

Suddenly, he was deposited at Link's feet, and Link lifted him into the cart like he was a toddler. It took Kanda several minutes to realize that he'd just been carried by a large Chinese sailor rather than another CROW. Thank God for that - not many men could pick up and cart Kanda off so easily. It was better to have him on their side than on the other.

"Come on, we gotta get going. We've switched the oxen for horses. The CROW are definitely on our tail," Link said. Kanda scoffed.

"No kidding. I just got in a fight with one," Kanda stated.

"CROW are here?" Eve asked, her voice suddenly falling flat. Her eyes seemed to glaze over, and Kanda nodded. Eve herself was a good fighter, maybe even capable of bringing down a CROW by herself, but no way she could do it in her state. Kanda had barely managed _one. _

"How are Allen, Bookman, and Lenalee?" Kanda asked. They had actually taken his original corpse back with them by another route. No use putting all their eggs in one basket. Besides that, Kanda was afraid for Lenalee's mental welfare. She'd been uncharacteristically quiet these past few hours, but with the death of her brother it was to be expected. Still, Kanda was afraid of what she'd do to herself. Lenalee had a habit of being... self-destructive in times of very, very high stress._  
_

The world began to tilt very suddenly, and Kanda felt like his breathing was getting a little rough.

"They're fine. We should be in the Sub-order's headquarters within - Kanda? Kanda, are you all right?"

"Oh, Lord. He's bleeding out. His femoral artery's snipped, he's bleeding to death!"

"Chaoji, grab the reins and get us out of here before more CROW find us. Wait - no, I'll stay behind and fight them off! Eve, stop the bleeding!"

"W-where do I go?! I don't know where the headquarters is!"

Everything was happening at what seemed like the speed of light. Kanda's eyesight continued to go in and out. He stared at Eve as she shoved a scarf against the inside of his leg, and everything went fuzzy as pain lanced all the way up his leg and into his midsection.

"Hey... hey, big guy, stay with me here. Just look at me- come on, focus! Don't go out on me - Kanda... Kanda, you stay with me, you son of...!"

The earth spun and turned black.

* * *

**A/N: **I have decided to continue this story despite the fact that it has so many snarls. Seeing as I had so many people interesting in seeing a continuation (as well as an ending to it), it will continue. Hopefully, you all enjoy reading it over your thanksgiving break (if you have one).

Now, I do have one problem: I didn't do enough research when I started this story. Not to mention, it was all published prior to Kanda's Arc being completely finished, so a lot of the pieces don't exactly add up. I sincerely apology for the snags.

I also have some discussion questions: _Is it likely that Kanda will die in India? Do you think they are safe there, despite the fact that they are staying with the Order? Who are you hoping to see in the story as it continues? What other symptoms do you think should be apparent at this point in the story? What are your feelings on Eve's story - is it too central to the story? Or is it a good explanation for Eve's motives? Do you think that Eve, as an OC, is annoying or unnecessary to the story? _

That's all I've got for right now! Have a happy Thanksgiving! Eat slowly, and don't choke on a bone! God bless you, and keep reading.


	15. Recovering

He opened his eyes to a golden light. Above him a ceiling seemed to spin like a mobile, intricate carvings of plaster flowers and mythological creatures dancing across the tiles. He felt like _crap. _That wasn't anything new, but it was still a shock just how terrible his condition was. Every breath seemed to wheeze out of him, and his leg must've been stuck in a blender, because there was no way it could still be in one piece, not with the way it was complaining. What was worse, that was the leg that _hadn't _fallen off. Now they matched. He was covered in a soft, woolen blanket that caught on his dry, cracking skin. He tried to sit up, but he found that upset his stomach and his spine.

"Welcome... back..." a soft voice rasped. He turned his head to see a familiar redhead wearing an eyepatch laying in the next bed over. He narrowed his eyes.

"What are _you _doing here?"

"Same...as you... Recover...ing," Lavi chuckled in a whisper.

The idiot apprentice looked a lot better than the last time Kanda had seen him. There were still dark circles under his eyes and his face was still incredibly pale, but the bruising had disappeared, and it looked like his bandages had been peeled off. Still, purple scars reached from underneath his cotton shirt, marring the marble skin. He was in just as bad shape as the samurai in the room.

"You look like crap," Kanda noted sardonically. Lavi lifted one red eyebrow.

"So do... you."

"How did you get here?"

"Luckily, not... the same way... you did. Took the Ark. Crowley went with. Took... forever and... a day. Got here yesterday."

The door to their room opened, and a pretty Indian nurse carrying a tray entered gracefully. Lavi immediately perked up, almost attempting to sit. Kanda could practically see the hearts in his eyes as the Indian nurse readjusted her white sari as she spooned broth out of a tureen into two bowls.

"I see you are both awake. Doctor Eve told me that you would both need liquid foods for now until you've both gotten better," she iterated with a thick accent, smiling. Her thick eyebrows accented her large, almond shaped eyes. Her skin was, of course, nut brown and clear, her hands decorated with henna tattoos despite her vocation.

"You've got to be kidding me," Kanda grumbled as he was handed a bowl of broth.

"_Thank _you," Lavi said in contrast to Kanda's disgruntled reply, giving his best smile. Kanda rolled his eyes. Even when he's practically _dying_, Lavi can find time to woo anything with ovaries. The irate swordsman had to keep himself from giving a sharp 'tch'.

"My name is Kajal, and I will be your nurse for the next few weeks. I hope you enjoy your stay here," she said pleasantly, leaving behind a trail of sweet smelling jasmine. The two of them were quiet as they stared at their respective soup bowls, not even bothering to complain considering _Eve _was still their doctor.

"I don't... care how much... broth I've got... to eat. She's worth it," Lavi sighed wistfully. Kanda picked up his napkin and threw it at him.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, you idiot. She's not looking for an invalid pasty white kid," Kanda snarked.

"Hey...You only... live the... one time."

"Not here in India, you don't."

"Rein...carnation doesn't... count!"

"_You're looking at a product of reincarnation, imbecile." _

The two of them continued for a while before Lavi started laughing and snorting soup and Kanda had to keep from smirking. Suddenly, Lavi's coughing took a serious turn, and Kanda's stomach dropped. Lavi wheezed, and Kanda began to realize he was hardly breathing. Kanda flew out of bed as fast as his body would allow, leaning out the door where their nurse was seated in a wicker chair down the hall, reading.

"Nurse Kajal! Lavi's choking!"

It didn't take long for the pretty Indian nurse to run in, assess the situation, and begin the Heimlich maneuver. When it was clear that wasn't working (Lavi was still gasping to breath, and the soup must still be in his lungs), she started mouth to mouth instead, Kanda watching with a mixture of uncomfortable concern and helplessness. How had a simple contest of laughable banter suddenly turn into a life-or-death matter?

Suddenly, Lavi started breathing well again, coughing up a good amount of soup in the process. The nurse wiped her mouth and pushed her hair back, trying to regain some semblance of order.

"Are you okay, Mister Lavi?" she asked seriously, her brown eyes wide with worry. He nodded, unable to speak for a moment. She sighed and stood up, looking to Kanda.

"If anything else is wrong, feel free to... do what you just did," she said, gasping a little. Apparently, mouth-to-mouth was very strenuous. Kanda made a note to never learn it. Well, not unless necessary. Considering his state, trying to save someone that way would actually _kill _him.

After the nurse left, Kanda sat down on his bed, stiffly cracking his back. His leg was on fire, and he wished that he knew what had happened that had caused him to black out in the cart. From what he remember, he'd snipped an artery. That would explain the bandage around his thigh.

And suddenly, Kanda heard snickering. He looked up, eyeing Lavi's mirthful expression.

"That... was awesome," Lavi sighed. It took Kanda a moment to realize that Lavi's little accident had gotten him to second base.

"Did... did you just... _fake choking?" _Kanda hissed. Lavi looked at Kanda with a squinty, very pleased green eye.

"Mmmm, maybe," Lavi confessed. Kanda slapped his forehead before suddenly throwing his pillow at the redhead.

"I thought you were dying, you idiot!" Kanda snapped. Lavi just continued to laugh, holding on to his stomach.

"You bet... you did, hahaha... the look on your... face!"

"I'm not laughing," Kanda stated seriously, giving Lavi a harsh glare. Suddenly, Lavi stopped laughing, seeing the look on his friend's face. Though their relationship could best be described as undulating between vitriol and brotherhood, for the most part they'd stuck with each other over the past couple of years. Though it wasn't automatically evident, there was real tension as Lavi realized just how badly he might've scared Kanda. Oh, the swordsman would _never, ever in a million years _admit that he'd been scared, but it was in his face. Lavi considered how alone Kanda had been these past couple of days, with no one but Eve to share his pain. And Lavi had acted like Kanda was about to lose the only person who might be able to empathize or understand, someone familiar...

"I guess... I'm just trying... to lighten things... up around...here. Sorry," Lavi stated haltingly. Kanda's face remained stoically flat. He got back in bed slowly, and the two of them stared at the ceiling for a while.

"If I have to suffer here, you have to suffer here. Or so help me..." Kanda threatened without looking at the man in the next bed. Lavi raised his eyebrows before smiling.

"Yeah, yeah... don't bust an... artery over there," Lavi answered.

* * *

Allen walked down the hallways quietly. The Indian headquarters was a nice, open building with beautiful stone friezes. It had originally been a temple built to the Hindu God, Vishnu, and religious imagery covered the walls in bas-relief. The Exorcist sighed as he thought about the places he'd seen, the things he'd done, and how small those achievements were in light of everything the Order had accomplished up until that point. He took a shuddering breath as he passed a window, blue moonlight spilling over his shoes.

It was nighttime, and all was silent. It was at these times that Allen enjoyed walking through Nea's memories. The aftermath of the war had left Allen and Nea at a crossroads. It had been all too likely that Nea would completely overshadow Allen and once again live, but the Fourteenth Noah had come up with a better solution. They lived together in a strange sort of symbiosis, with Nea passively experiencing life through Allen once more, integrated so deeply into Allen's conscience that they were almost one person. Every now and again Nea would wake up and talk to Allen, mostly to give advice or something of the sort. Allen had access to all of Nea's memories, but he rarely touched them in order to leave Nea at peace, dormant.

Allen was suddenly aware that his feet had taken him down a long hallway carpeted with rugs. The rooms were all closed, though a door at the end of the hall was ajar, and blue light leaked out like an effervescent liquid. Allen frowned as he neared, noticing that he was passing science labs of some sort. This must be the science quarter. High above him, the ceiling was like the roof of a cave, nearly hidden by black night. The light seemed to glow around the door, and Allen silently peeked through.

Eve sat with her back to the Exorcist, working on a typewriter. His eyes flowed naturally from the woman working late at night to the inert hand poking from under a sheet.

His breath caught in his throat as he drew conclusions of his own.

He'd been with the body the entire way to the Indian headquarters, but he'd never actually gotten to _see _the body. It was hard to believe that Kanda was merely a vessel for another person, and that other person happened to be lying on the table in front of the doctor. Allen watched silently as Eve took a skin sample and placed it in a device with two eye holes connected to a long tube that ended in lenses. He peered around the door to get a glimpse of the face, but it was covered by the sheet.

"Record this please," Eve said, and a golem fluttered to life.

"The specimen is exactly six feet and one quarter of an inch tall, black hair, brown eyes, of Asian descent, muscular build, with no defining characteristics. Appears to be mid to late twenties. It is in good condition, with little decomposition. The skin is still supple and flesh colored, characteristic of a body that has been dead for a few days. I will start at the head of the body before taking any more samples besides skin," Eve iterated. Allen couldn't help but watch in horrific fascination as she pulled back the top part of the sheet.

It looked exactly like him.

Allen felt panic reach inside him and rip at his heart. For a moment... The nose, the mouth, and the structure was almost identical. There were small discrepancies, such as a slight turn to the nose, a width of the eyes that wasn't present in the living counterpart, a small curl to the sides of the mouth that gave it the appearance of smiling- but all in all, it was a dead ringer. Pun unintended, of course.

The hair was splayed out and slicked back, wet from having been washed by whoever had taken care of the corpse. The face was serene, Japanese by the look of it, with a slender nose and a well defined chin. The lips were still full, but not womanish. Allen felt sick as he realized that the body was not breathing, further discomforting the Exorcist. It was _too _uncanny.

"The face is of stable structure with a well-defined skull. All features are present, including accessories of cartilage. There is no damage to the face."

She pulled the sheet lower, and the golem fluttered over her, no doubt video recording as well.

This time, Allen almost outright ran away.

A hideous wound sliced through his torso. There was no blood in the wound, leaving just a yellowish-red meaty substance where flesh should be. It parted like a gruesome pair of lips, revealing the mess beneath.

"The original wound was never closed, but the specimen was exsanguinated and embalmed to a certain extent. All features are again present. No discrepancies."

She continued. For modesty's sake, she'd thrown a towel over his lower half, clinically going over all the bits and pieces, commenting on the condition of such and such medical term and the color of such and such anatomical word. Allen found himself slowly stepping inside of the makeshift mortuary, not noticing until the door squeaked on a hinge.

The doctor looked at Allen so fast that he nearly shouted in surprise. She suddenly relaxed as she realized it was a friend, and Allen noted the tension in her hands and shoulders. Her face, which had been turned away all this time, looked disconcertingly calm and detached.

"Oh. It's you."

Allen took a tentative breath and stated, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. I was..."

He glanced at the body.

"...just curious."

Eve blinked at Allen before shrugging.

"Go ahead and have a seat, then," she stated. Allen took the offered chair, and he stared at the body.

"It's odd, isn't it?" Eve asked, plucking a single hair off of the thing's head. He had to think of it in those terms. It wasn't _him. _Yet, that bit of uncertainty lingered._  
_

"Yes. It's very odd," Allen agreed. They were silent for several more minutes, the cold blue lighting giving the body a washed out color. It also turned Eve a pasty white, further adding to her unhealthy appearance.

"Why does it not look exactly like him?" Allen asked quietly, his eyes tight. It was as if all their fears had been solidified and presented on a cold, metal table. He kept trying to find differences between the corpse on the table and his comrade. It was like that child's game they put in the news prints: spot the differences. Yet the more Allen stared, the more 'real' it seemed that Kanda was dead.

In a way, Kanda _was _dead.

"DNA is a funny thing. Even when cloning by magical means, certain phenotypes will not appear even if it's in the genotype. There were certain codes in his genetics that just didn't make it through, and so there are a lot of small things about this body that are off from the copy," Eve stated. She pointed down towards its feet.

"See how the second toe is longer than the first? That's one difference."

She picked up its hand. Allen almost flinched with how careless, yet comfortable, she seemed to be with it.

"And the hands are less slender, a little bit thicker at the joints. The arms are a little shorter, and the musculature is different, though that could be put down to plasticity rather than phenotype. Of course, there is a lack of a magical tattoo over the pectoral, and his shoulders are a bit too narrow," Eve pointed out, putting the hand back on the table with a delicateness that belied her usual disregard. She was kinder to the dead than the living.

"But more or less, this is... this is him," Allen stated, his kind face suddenly becoming steely. Eve took a moment to weigh her words.

"Yes. In a way, this is him. Or it was," Eve said, sitting down in a chair. She waved at the golem, and it promptly stopped recording.

"What are you going to do with the body when you're finished?" Allen asked, almost breathlessly. It was odd how uncomfortable he felt around this corpse. He'd seen thousands, hundreds of thousands, of dead bodies before. He'd walked among them, around them, over them. Yet, not a single one had had as profound an effect as this single body, laid out along a medical trolley with its gruesome wound and serene expression.

"Well, the spells will continue to keep it in its pristine state. Even after me handling it after so many years of decay and mistreatment, the body is highly resilient. I shall keep it here for further study in one of the freezers, though I doubt I'll really need it, considering the amount of embalming they did to ensure that the body stayed intact," Eve said, waving her hands about and staring at the body almost nonchalantly, as if she were merely talking about storing away her luggage from a long trip. Allen stared at the body's feet, their outline fading in and out.

"Perhaps...we should go outside. _He'll _still be here, but it seems you're close to losing the curried chicken you just ate for dinner," Eve suggested, slowly rising out of her chair. Allen was only too happy to oblige.

They stepped out into the temple courtyard through one of the large, square doorways. The grass was springy beneath their feet, and the wind blew wondrously, not at all like the stuffy stillness of the mortuary with that... that _thing. _

"What exactly do you plan on doing with Kanda's body, anyways? What more can you learn?" Allen asked.

Eve shrugged as they stood by one of the canals that ran along the sides of the courtyard, a fifty meter wide chasm that ended with a still surface of lily pads and lotuses.

"I... I honestly don't know. I don't know what I don't know, so I don't know what I'll find until I find it. Kanda's deterioration appears to be a matter of his genetic coding, which is inscribed within that body right there. If I compare the two, I might find the difference between the two. Kanda was in perfectly fit condition when he died, and he was presumably the same way when he was reincarnated, so I believe if I compare the two body cells I might find some... some _thing," _Eve admitted, gesturing to the sky in an exasperated manner. She began to sway under the vehemence of her speech, and Allen was swift to give her a leaning shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Allen asked as he sat her in the grass, and she nodded her head, dark hair streaked with silver swaying back and forth.

"I'm not... not as young as I used to be. Link's already attested to that, I'm afraid," Eve croaked, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Allen sat next to her in the grass, giving her a sympathetic look as she rubbed her eyes. It was clear she'd been putting in more hours than she should have, but Allen could understand what drove her. She was desperate for a cure, for the both of them. In doing so, she was finding the cure to _his _predilection as well, and Allen was hoping that out of this nightmare, her dream might come true.

"You really want to help us," Allen stated. Eve looked at him with a slack look before breaking out into a dark chuckle.

"The side effect of practicing medicine is that people get better," Eve quipped. They were quiet for a while as they sat there in silence.

"Yes. I have to. I've done nothing with my life besides try to survive. The Order has been good to me, despite everything," Eve said, gesturing to her patched shoulder with a sardonic grimace. Allen felt himself wince in return, thinking of how the politics of the Vatican had suddenly soiled the Order's hospitality to this frail human being.

"You don't seem the type to pay back," Allen said.

"I'm a closet philanthropist. Make of that what you will. Maybe it has something to do with my childhood."

* * *

"And then... and then I said... 'Are you _sure _you want... to drink that?'"

Kanda rolled his eyes as he continued pushing Lavi's wheelchair around the paths that bent around the temple. In the air, the smells of Delhi wafted with the aromas of sweet spices, acrid dung, and humanity. Though they were fairly set apart from the rest of the city, they could still hear the car horns.

"And... you know what he did?" Lavi asked, leaning his head back to look up at Kanda. The samurai raised an eyebrow.

"I have absolutely no idea." Even though Lavi must've told this story a hundred times in a week.

"He... drank it! Drank it... without ano...another word. The poor piss-off... didn't know he'd... drank piss! Not just piss either, but... but _elephant _piss. That's just wrong," Lavi chuckled. Kanda tried not to groan. For a guy with such a good memory, he told the same stories an awful lot. Then again, Lavi _did _have a knack for keeping long accounts of people, but he tended to keep quiet about those.

Lately the Bookman Junior's mind had been on an uptick, though. He had begun reading again, though he could only manage a few pages a day with his poor health. Every now and again, Kanda caught him with paints, creating renditions of the places he'd been, all from memory. However, Lavi's concentration seemed to rise and fall, an effect of the brain trauma he'd received from the blood loss. It was clear that it sometimes bothered Lavi that he couldn't seem to pay attention to things people said or to his surroundings. Kanda tried not to notice it.

But today was one of those days where it seemed to be in his face.

"Where are we?" Lavi asked, his voice suddenly incredibly strong and succinct. Kanda frowned.

"What do you mean? We're in the courtyard, dolt," Kanda tersely answered, continuing to push Lavi's wheelchair. Lavi frowned.

"I... uh, I don't remember leaving the... the temple," Lavi admitted, his voice waning, and Kanda's face fell slowly.

"Don't worry about it. You didn't miss much. Some trees, a couple monkeys, a nurse in fish net, nothing really to see," Kanda said, throwing in the 'nurse' in the hopes that Lavi would perk up.

"Hey... no way, I missed a hot nurse! We're going back!" Lavi laughed, hitting the arm of his wheelchair and twisting around to look at Kanda. The samurai smirked and shrugged, continuing along the way.

They continued their walk, eyeing Lenalee and Crowley sitting on a bench. Crowley was gleefully playing with a frog he'd probably found in the moat surrounding the temple, and Lenalee was smiling, albeit with a pale cast to her face.

"Did you hear about-?"

"Komui? Yeah. It's sad to... say, but I'm honestly not... surprised," Lavi said, taking a filling breath every few words or so. His lung capacity was getting better every day, but even so it strained him to talk. For a while they were afraid of having to use oxygen tanks, but it seemed that Lavi was in the clear. Kanda's first thought when he'd overheard Eve talking about it with Link was a rendition of the redhead wearing some sort of zany backpack strapped with oxygen bottles. Lavi, inert and chained to a few metal tanks by plastic tubing? Not likely.

"Why not?" Kanda asked distantly as he stared at the lotuses in the moats a few meters away.

"Well... considering what... happened to me..." Lavi said confidently, gesturing to himself with both hands. Kanda suppressed a wince. Yet again, a true statement. Lavi had only stuck his nose into things he shouldn't have, something he did often. This time the nose almost got lopped off. Komui, on the other hand, just seemed to be collateral damage seeing as he'd unwittingly matched Kanda with Eve.

"I hate to say it. You make a point," Kanda admitted grudgingly. They continued walking quite a ways, both in silence with their thoughts seeming to circle like vultures over their heads. They were laden with worries, stiff with clogging death and lingering despair, only able to move from the small hope within them. Their thoughts gave off a stink, one that the nurses seemed to be able to smell with nothing but their instinct as they moved out of their way, not bothering to check on them from the sheer darkness in their faces.

Suddenly, Kanda said, "Hey."

"Yeah?"

"I've got an idea."

"What's that?"

"I'm thinking about leaving. Taking a break or something. Going places, doing things."

"I think that's... the longest sentence... I've ever... heard you say," Lavi wheezed. They trundled along, Kanda pushing but slowing down as his muscles began to twitch under the strain.

"Shut up. I want you and Allen to come along. You can find the places I'm thinking of. Allen can keep me from killing everybody within a mile's radius," Kanda proposed. Lavi frowned to himself, looking down into his lap at his folded hands as he thought about this proposition.

"Why would... you want to... do that? You've... been enough... places," Lavi asked, his curious mind ever working.

His friend shrugged as he tried to think of a suitable response. He couldn't really place any singular moment in time where it had become apparent to him. It had slowly dawned on him that his life was waning, with or without treatment. Every day he looked in the mirror, and it seemed like there were more lines added to his skin, furrowing it into a map of wrinkles. Though minuscule, they made him look as if he were almost twice his age. Despite the fact he'd gone to so many different places in his life as one of the Order, he'd never really _experienced _those places. They'd just been another place on the dossier, extraneous information to be used to kill the things he'd been created to destroy. Now he wanted to see those places again, reminisce a little perhaps. Not only that, but there were other places, locations he knew he'd never visited in _this _life. Perhaps he still had family. Maybe some of his old friends or their children were still alive.

He had never tried to connect with the person he was. Maybe it was time to do so as he was coming so close to meeting that other side of him. His hands gripped the handles of Lavi's wheelchair, coming to a halt with a wheeze in his chest. He really had to stop pushing himself so far. He looked down at Lavi, and the answer to his redheaded friend's question was suddenly clear.

"Simple. Why not?"

The air was suddenly still, the grass growing between the cobble stones of the path. The orange walls of the temple sprouted from the ground as if they'd been sown into the very earth, and the world seemed to hold still for a minute.

"When?" Lavi asked.

"Soon."

"Worried about dying?"

"...Not necessarily."

"You've never... been this... talkative."

"I've been saving all the talk."

"Slow to speak? Quick to listen?"

"Working on the slow to anger. Consider it my old age. Enjoy it while it lasts."

* * *

Eve sat back, pushing her hair back from her face. Her fingers came down over her forehead to rub her eyes, squeezing them shut tightly. Her bottom lip quivered as she fought her tears.

There was no way. Not even a clone would halt the progress. There was nothing they could do to stop it. It was hopeless.

At least with Parasitic users, she'd found a way to graft organs off the patient in order to repair those bits that were falling apart and to halt the progress of the dissolution and wear-and-tear that came with the Innocence wearing out the user's body. But this was an entirely different animal.

Kanda's cells were from someone who was at the prime of life when they'd been killed and cloned. The basal cells were all around 25 years of age, if not a little more, and so the cells _believed _they were still 25 when Kanda had been cloned into a preteen. Despite the fact Kanda underwent puberty as any other boy did, his cells had actually held a marker for age that was closer to twenty-five than nine years old when he'd come out of the tank. Not only that, but because of the advanced time in which Kanda had been incubating, a good thirty years, the cells could possibly have multiplied and 'kept the clock' so to speak.

Kanda's cells now 'believed' themselves to be anywhere between 40 years old and 70. They had copied themselves over too many times. Mistakes in his genetic code were being made. His body was breaking down, and the magic that kept regenerating him was failing because the cells blessed with the magic were almost all gone, presumably. Eve had been using a 'telomerease' treatment, an enzyme that created the 'aglets' that held together the genetic code and kept them from unraveling. That could only do so much, however, especially with so many things damaged.

She folded her hands in her lap, looking down at them. They were cracked in so many different places, both from dry skin and perforation due to age. Her hair was slowly turning grayer. Eve herself was beginning to look just as sickly as her patient. They were running out of time. She'd lived long enough, but Kanda had only experienced life for fifteen years. What were they going to do?

"This is getting us nowhere," she said to the corpse on the table next to her. "It seems every time I get closer to a cure or a treatment, I get put back a few steps."

The corpse didn't answer back.

"We need something to stop the age marker. There's got to be a way. The only thing I can think of is... well, cancer," she muttered to herself. She looked over at the body and scoffed at herself.

"Must be the disease. I'm talking to a corpse."

However, her last few words stuck with her. Cancer cells were nearly immortal. They kept reproducing and reproducing without any sort of stop signal, but they replicated ineffectively, making them useless. She couldn't find a way to stop cancer, but perhaps...

She looked at a petri dish filled with Kanda's own cells. What if she could isolate the stop signal? It would be easy, with a little finagling and some magical intervention. If they could isolate the stop signal, perhaps they could even get rid of the stop signal. The cells would replicate uncontrollably without an age marker, perhaps even creating a new series of grafted organs (a little project she'd run on the side, just an offshoot). Kanda would have spare organs for... who knew how long. He would be less than handsome, but he'd still be alive.

Her telephone rang as she played with the petri dish, and she stared at it. Her eyes tightened as she contemplated whether to answer it or not. After all, the entire hospital was on one line, so just about any phone that called them was going to be routed to _all _the phones. She sighed. The reception desk could get it. She turned back to her work.

The phone continued to ring persistently. She looked back at it, apprehensive. Finally, she snatched it off its cradle.

"Yes? Who is this?" she asked.

"Hello, ma'am. Long time since I've heard ya. Miss me?"

Her heart seemed to skip a beat as her stomach rioted. The Texas accent was hard to miss. She swallowed, trying to keep calm.

"I'm sorry. I have no idea what you're talking about. I believe you have the wrong number."

She hung up, her heart leaping in her throat. She closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

Something suddenly thunked on the table beside her, and she looked over. An arrow stuck straight out of her specimen's hand, and she screamed, nearly smacking her head into her desk as she fell out of her chair. She crawled under the desk, heart pounding as adrenaline flooded her system like white hot metal. She put her hands to her mouth as she crammed herself into a corner. As tough as she tried to be, here alone she was frightened and fragile.

"Eve?"

"Don't come in! Link... stay out there. He's here. Close," she hissed. From her vantage point, she couldn't see him, but she knew that he was probably going to defy her orders.

Sure enough, he seemed to materialize right next to her desk a few minutes later.

"You're safe. There's nobody out there," Link assured her.

"How do you know?" she asked scathingly, pressing herself deeper into the desk. He rolled his eyes.

"Trust me. It's a CROW's first technique to use three dimensional combat awareness. Is that what made you scream?" he asked, flicking a hand at the arrow sticking out of the corpse's hand. A piece of paper fluttered on the end of it.

"Yes," Eve admitted.

"They can't make things easy. Bows are a lot harder to hear than a gun," he muttered as he straightened up from his position by the desk to inspect the arrow. He was about to remove it, but Eve made a rather disgruntled 'ah!' as he reached for it. Link gave her a tired look before removing one of his switchblades and sawing off the shaft right above its entry point. He glanced at the serene face of the body with disconcert, but he merely did his job. He was too aware of Kanda's predicament and past to really be fazed.

"What does it say?" Eve said, finally venturing out of her desk. She made sure to keep out of the way of the windows.

" 'Good day and good luck on your recent venture. We expect to see you again.' That's just perfect. They know where we are," Link sighed.

"Not like we kept it much of a secret. This is an Order run hospital," Eve muttered. She rubbed her face, exhausted.

"We'll have to leave again soon," Link said.

"But we just got here! I unloaded all my equipment!"

"Eve, you almost got clocked by an arrow. They intentionally missed. This is psychological warfare. They want us afraid, and they want us out in the open," Link said. He considered moving, but he figured this was an effort to flush them out. They were more vulnerable out on the road than they were here. The more they moved, the less time they'd have to research, and the worse condition their passengers would be in.

"Moving is probably what they want, of course. We'll stay for a while longer," Link conceded, and Eve pursed her lips.

"That's what I thought. Now what?"

Link rolled the arrow between his fingers. He shook his head. Kanda wasn't going to like what was coming next.

"It looks like we're going to have to cage our birds."

* * *

**A/N: **I finally have another chapter out! Now that summer is here, I should have some time to write and get these chapters rolling.

Thank you SO much for sticking with this story, even when it appeared it was going under. I plan on finishing this story, and perhaps even going beyond. ;) Special thanks goes to TheRandomGirl (I'm so glad you like Eve - though her character is finicky to write sometimes, haha!), karina001 (who's got the best insight and betaing around; I dunno what I'd do without her), and the guest(s) that posted the comments that helped keep this story going. Reviews are a writer's bread and butter, after all!

A big, big thanks to every one of my subscribers and favoriteers! I plan on getting a recognition page up for you guys soon - it's so long, it's a little unruly to do that right now, haha! I guess that's a good thing.

And finally, discussion questions: _How do you like the idea of Kanda's proposition? Do you think the story is slowing down? Is there any OOC going on? What did you think of Allen's portion of the story? Are there any questions you'd like to have answered or addressed? What characters do you want to see more of? What would you say the atmosphere of the story is?_

Well, that's all I've got for now. God bless you, and keep reading!


End file.
